


I Will Go Down With This Ship

by justrae2010



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, First Class Victor, Forbidden Love, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Notes, M/M, Pining, Secret Relationship, Steward Yuuri, Titanic AU, soooo much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24594934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010
Summary: Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes as he glanced across the dining room, surely deluded, surely going mad, surely-But, no - Victor Nikiforov was actually there.Yuuri felt his heart stop dead in his chest, collar tightening just a little too close for comfort around his throat. He felt like he was choking, ribcage locked in tight, frozen as if mesmerised by the beautiful creature in his dining room shining like a blazing sun amongst mere twinkling stars. He was just as beautiful as Yuuri remembered him - but what the hell was he doing on the Titanic?!-A brokenhearted Victor Nikiforov boards the grandest ship in port, promising himself to leave the memory of his forbidden love affair behind in the excitement of the Titanic’s maiden voyage, and desperate for work Yuuri Katsuki takes up a job on the only ship sailing out of Southampton.They’re not the only things destined to collide.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 56
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes as he glanced across the dining room, surely deluded, surely going mad, surely-

But, no - Victor Nikiforov  _ was  _ really there.

Yuuri felt his heart stop dead in his chest, collar tightening just a little too close for comfort around his throat. He felt like he was choking, ribcage locked in tight, frozen as if mesmerised by the beautiful creature in his dining room shining like a blazing sun amongst mere twinkling stars. He was just as beautiful as Yuuri remembered him.

Their eyes locked - and Yuuri froze.

He couldn’t do this.

* * *

Victor’s heart was in his mouth as he glanced up from walking into the dining room and saw the only person in the whole world that could stop him dead in his tracks, that could see clean through his facade.

Yuuri Katsuki stared back at him, wide eyed and shocked.

Victor felt it too.

He hadn’t expected to see Yuuri. He’d deliberately booked his trip via the  _ Titanic  _ rather than the  _ Olympic  _ to avoid it, sure that nothing good could come of seeing his forbidden flame again, still painfully out of reach. They hadn’t parted amicably after all. Victor would have followed Yuuri across the Atlantic like the swing of a pendulum if he could.

It was Yuuri who had had other plans.

* * *

**_1911 - RMS Olympic_ **

_ He stole Victor’s breath away - the ravishing, anonymous beauty who swept him across the makeshift dance floor of the third class common room with eyes like molten caramel behind blue framed glasses and the grace of an angel.  _

_ Victor had no idea who he was.  _

_ He didn’t know a lot of things anymore. _

_ Like why he was down in third class to begin with, for example. Oh right - Christophe! Christophe who had so conveniently travelled down from the smoking room hours ago because he had been convinced the drinks would be cheaper down in steerage class and had conveniently not returned. Now, Victor could see why. _

_ He’d long given up looking for his friend. It didn’t matter anymore - why would anybody want to leave this place? _

_ The music roared, boots stomping in time, people danced like nobody was watching, laughing, smiling, cheering - it was all so refreshing compared to the stiff upper class he was used to! Victor wouldn’t trade a moment for it.  _

_ Especially when his raven haired companion hooked his fingers in the waistband of his trousers and pulled him out the common room, a telling look in his captivating - albeit, clearly very intoxicated - eyes. Victor followed willingly, complaints swallowed the second his companion pulled him into an empty cabin down the corridor and pushed him back, bouncing off the mattress of the bed - the bed that was far too small for two people. His companion pulled his shirt over his head - glasses left adorably askew on his face - and joined him anyway. _

_ Victor had never felt so alive. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri was shaking like a leaf, feeling his hands tremble where they were clasped tightly behind his back. Celestino was seating Victor Nikiforov and his party - the blonde Swiss Yuuri remembered seeing on the Olympic, Yakov Feltsman and his wife Lilia, Yuri Plisetsky, a few others he didn’t know by name but had seen their faces in the papers. All of them rich. All of them famous.

Victor didn’t seem to pay any of them any attention as he sat down though with impeccable elegance, eyes holding Yuuri’s gaze from under the wisp of silver hair brushing over his face.

There was something harder in his gaze from behind the initial surprise though, something cold and bitter that Yuuri could see in the slight downward curl to the corner of Victor’s mouth. He was angry.

With Yuuri, he had every right to be.

* * *

**_1911 - RMS Olympic_ **

_ The ring of shattering china cut though the elegant tranquility of the dining room, shards daggering over the opulent carpet and the ladies gasping in shock.  _

_ Yuuri hadn’t been able to help it, bowl slipping cleanly through his fingers. His heart was still in his chest, dead with shock. _

_ The most beautiful man in the world was staring at him. _

_ He was perfection in human form, eyes the brightest blue and hair the most gorgeous shimmering platinum, flowing long and gracious down his back like something only an angel could possess. There was something about him - something that made his pale skin almost seem to glow and the simple shirt and jacket he wore look so well tailored to his body it was sinful. And for some reason, he was looking at Yuuri. _

_ Looking definitely wasn’t the right word -  _ staring  _ was definitely better. His eyes were wide and round with shock, lips ghosted apart and complexion somehow paling even further… _

_ Of course, he was horrified, Yuuri reasoned in his head, rooted to the spot in shame - he was Victor Nikiforov, his fortune made on hospitality and the art of fine dining. Nothing like this would ever happen in one of his establishments. Nobody smashed dishes in his presence - it was nothing short of spitting in the face of god. _

_ Yuuri felt himself start to tremble, tears welling in his eyes. The whole reason he’d sought a career as a steward was thanks to Nikiforov, inspired by the wonderful things he’d seen in the papers, hoping that one day he could be good enough to just glimpse the life of the angel snapped in the photographs. _

_ And now he had, and he’d messed it up. _

_ He ripped his gaze away from Victor’s, dropping to his knees and clumsily gathering the shards in his gloved hands as quickly as possible. He shouldn’t have gone drinking the night before. He should have known it was bound to end in disaster. He’d thought a few drinks would be safe to help calm his nerves for the journey, help him sleep - which they did, Yuuri blacking out fairly quickly from what he remembered of the night before - but it had clearly been a mistake, swallowing the lump in his throat and feeling his stomach churn sickeningly.  _

_ He should have been better. For Victor Nikiforov - his one chance to meet his idol and make a good impression - he should have been better.  _

_ He glanced up one last time. _

_ Victor’s face was still a picture of shock. _

_ Yuuri blinked fast, straightened up, and all but fled the dining room before anybody could stop him. He didn’t look back. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri shouldn’t even  _ be _ here - he was only covering for Cao Bin! He should have been in the Third Class Dining room, serving children the most hearty meals most of them would ever have, give them a taste of elegance and class most of them had only ever dreamt of. He loved his job. He loved seeing their smiles in steerage, loved seeing their eyes pop wide as they finished their food and found a new story painted into the bottom of their plate - always a different story. No child would see the same story twice before they reached America.  _ White Star Line  _ had made sure of it.

He’d never wanted to return to first class, content down in his exile in steerage. It was what he got for getting a last minute job, Phichit swinging Celestino to give Yuuri a position on  _ Titanic  _ just the morning of setting sail. Yuuri had been eternally grateful, desperate for employment after ship after ship had been cancelled in Southampton from the coal strike. White Star Line had been all that had been left.

And when Phichit had offered Yuuri a golden ticket, Yuuri had accepted in a heartbeat.

He hadn’t known Victor would be here too.

Sparkling blue eyes like the deepest ocean, skin as pale as moonlight, hair shimmering like silver, glittering in the elegant candlelight - Victor was everything as beautiful as Yuuri remembered him to be.

Until he turned his head and Yuuri’s chest ached - his hair…Victor’s stunning long hair was gone, cropped short instead with the bangs draped over his eye the last long strands left.

He still looked beautiful - he would always look beautiful - but Yuuri mourned the fallen locks nevertheless, fond memories of running his fingers through the silky strands and carefully braiding it for Victor still painfully fresh in his mind. 

* * *

**_1911 - RMS Olympic_ **

_ Victor felt just as shattered as the broken china scattered over the dining room floor as blue eyes had locked with brown, watching his own shock mirror back at him. _

_ The Adonis from steerage. _

_ He was a waiter - Victor would recognise those eyes anywhere, even without the adorable blue glasses framing them and the messy mop of black hair combed back from his face. Victor wasn’t sure he’d ever forget that face. The one person in the whole world who had ever made Victor’s blood pulse with life at last- _

_ He was gone. _

_ A blink and a gasp, and Victor had suddenly been staring blankly at the patch of carpet where the ruined bowl had smashed instead of his lost lover. _

_ His heart wrenched. _

_ He’d never been much of a believer in fate or destiny, but by God, he wanted to be now. How could it be anything else? He finally found someone who made him feel alive and then that same person reappears in his life when Victor had never even gotten so much as his name the night before! It couldn’t be coincidence. It wasn’t an accident. _

_ And Victor would be damned to let him slip through his fingers a second time… _

_ “I need some air,” he rasped. _

_ He didn’t give anybody time to argue with him before he was weaving his way to the door, heart pounding madly in his chest and skin warm, remembering  _ his  _ touch. _

_ He vaguely remembered delicate fingers weaving through his hair in the early hours of the morning in that cabin room, gently freeing his long locks from their braids and combing through them until Victor slipped off to sleep again. When he’d next woken up though, he’d been alone. Victor would have thought it had all been a dream had it not been for the marks kissed into his pale skin and the faint trace of him on the pillow beside Victor’s. He hadn’t wanted him to go… _

_ He had no idea how he’d find him now. He couldn’t exactly ask and finding crew amongst the whole ship wasn’t going to be easy. There must be a network of corridors and staircases to avoid passengers seeing the crew at work. _

_ There would be one place he was sure to be sooner or later though - the dining room.  _

_ Hope stirred in Victor’s heart regardless though as he opened the door to step out onto one of the First Class decks, needing the shock of a lungful of cold air to clear his head and calm his flushed cheeks. After all, there was one place he was sure to show up in sooner or later - the dining room! Victor would eat and drink his days away until they docked for the chance to see him aga- _

_ Victor froze in his tracks. _

_ A dark haired head was bowed low over the railings, back and shoulders bobbing unmistakably. _

_ It couldn’t be... _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

“Give me a pencil.”

“What?” 

Yuuri barged through the kitchen with single minded determination, making a beeline for the store cupboard. There was paper in there. He needed paper - and a pencil, anything to write with. He’d write in his own blood if he had to, but he was sure a pencil would be far less dramatic if he would be able to get his hands on one.

“What for?” Phichit asked, following him into the store room. Yuuri ripped a page from the notebook for stock, pressing it smooth against the tabletop. “Yuuri, what are you doing?”

“I have to talk to him.”

A pause.

“You can’t be serious,” Phichit all but breathed.

Yuuri’s heart balked in his chest. He knew it was stupid. Victor was Victor and he was… well, nothing. And Victor would be married! He had no right to reach out to him.

… but he had to.

He couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest every time he saw the shimmer of silver hair or sparkle of cerulean blue eyes. It made his heart skip a beat, his skin tingle with the memory of Victor’s touch, longing settle deep in Yuuri’s gut that went beyond mere carnal lust, like it was his very soul reaching out to him-

Yuuri snatched the pencil out of his best friend’s hand and scratched his message into the paper, folding it up as small and smooth as he could.

He couldn’t let Victor slip through his fingers a second time.

* * *

Yuuri wouldn’t look at him - of course he wouldn’t, Victor scolded himself silently as Yuuri served the table, elegantly placing the food in front of each guest with all the care and precision in the world. He eyes stayed down on his task, on his job - not on Victor.

He tried not to take it personally.

They couldn’t be obvious after all. It was a secret. It had to stay a secret. What they’d had between them had been-

_ Incredible _ , Victor finished in his head with a sharp breath as Yuuri slid his plate in front of him, feeling his presence over his shoulder. He itched to turn around and see him. Touch him. Grab him by the lapels and pull him into a searing kiss that he couldn’t ignore-

Victor noticed the white corner poking out from under his plate. Paper. That was paper. That hadn’t been there before they’d been served.

_ Which meant- _

Victor whipped his head around - but Yuuri was already gone.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ “You…” _

_ The gasp that had ripped from those beautiful lips had been nothing short of sinful as the dark haired man had whipped around from the railing, tear stained face white as a sheet. Tears still glittered off his eyelashes, sparkling like the stars behind him. _

_ He was crying. _

_ The man who had swept Victor hopelessly off his feet, made him laugh until his ribs hurt, and taken his breath away just the night before … was crying. _

_ Victor thought he looked unfairly beautiful. _

_ “What’s your name?” he asked, voice more breathless than he’d anticipated. _

_ He had to know. _

_ The young man swallowed thickly. “Y-Yuuri.” _

_ A smile flickered over Victor’s lips - it was the most wonderful name in the world to him.  _

_ “Yuuri...” _

_ Victor wasn’t sure what came over him.  _

_ One moment he was stood there, heart racing in his chest and tingling right down to his fingertips with breathless delight, hope and happiness raging in his heart like a wildfire… _

_ … and the next he crossed the deck, took Yuuri’s face in his hands and kissed him without a second thought. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri could barely breathe as he all but ran back into the sanctuary of the kitchen, finding the nearest strong surface he could and planting his hands down squarely upon it. His back heaved with his fast breaths, lungs burning. 

He couldn’t believe he’d done that.

He’d been so sure before, so desperate, calm when he carried it out because if he’d been anything but, he would have been caught - and Victor too.

But what if he was wrong?

What if Victor didn’t forgive him? What if he handed the note in to Celestino? Yuuri would be dismissed - maybe Phichit too for getting him the job on the ship in the first place! It would be over, Yuuri would officially never get a job in service again. 

* * *

Victor slipped the note from under his plate without anybody noticing, everyone too busy talking about the economy, the delicate condition of Mr Astor’s wife, how old Christophe’s little daughter Alice would be… Victor didn’t care, thumbing the corner of the folded paper under the table.

He couldn’t read it here.

What would it say?

Victor’s gut churned with anticipation, the meal passing painfully slowly. Every minute felt like hours. All the time, he turned the folded note in his hand under the table, wondering what it said.

Perhaps it was a demand. A warning. Cursing Victor for showing his face again - albeit, accidentally, though he supposed Yuuri would have no way of knowing that.

_ Or a love note. _

Victor desperately hoped it was the latter.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ Victor was ever grateful that Yuuri hadn’t shoved him away that day he’d kissed him on B-deck. One kiss wasn’t enough. He’d tasted the salt of Yuuri’s tears, heard the desperation in his whimper and Victor had been a lost man. He’d dreamt of those lips after that night. He’d allowed his hand to linger in Yuuri’s when he pressed a tip into his hand at the end of each meal.  _

_ It was reckless and risky. If he got caught carrying on with Yuuri, Yuuri would be out of a job and Victor would be the latest scandal being whispered about at dinner tables. _

_ A part of him didn’t care though. _

_ That was why he still kept sneaking off to their elusive B-deck whenever he wouldn’t be missed, hoping that a certain raven haired waiter would be waiting for him. _

_ He always was. _

_ And Victor always threw himself forward head first with relief when he saw him at that railing, catching his mouth in a clumsy, desperate kiss. _

_ He always clung too hard, kissed too deep - he knew that. He couldn’t help himself. Every day he kept thinking about how easily Yuuri could slip away from him again, could fall through his fingers and leave him with nothing… _

_ So when Yuuri pulled away on their third ‘date’, Victor’s heart stopped dead in his chest. _

_ “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice barely more than a whisper. _

_ A terrified whisper, he noted, hearing the fear in his own voice and cursing himself.  _

_ Yuuri wouldn’t want someone scared. He’d need someone sexy and confident - like he’d been the night of that party! Victor must look so dull in comparison, just a blank rich boy, molded by his family’s wishes. Everyday Victor remembered it, and everyday he prayed that Yuuri wouldn’t realise. _

_ He guessed his luck had finally run out ... _

_ Yuuri’s hands braced on Victor’s forearms as he eased back, lower lip caught between his teeth.  _

_ “Victor…” _

_ Victor sucked in a sharp breath, bracing himself.  _

_ “...why me?” _

_ A smirk quirked Victor’s lips. Even he could feel how plastic it looked. “I thought it was obvious…” _

Because you are the most enthralling man I’ve ever met and I want to cherish every second I have with you _ , Victor answered hopelessly in his head. He hoped he didn’t betray it on his face though. _

_ Yuuri just stared flatly at him. “I’m serious. After I messed up…” _

_ “I don’t care about that-” _

_ “I do!” _

_ Victor took a half step back at the ferocity in Yuuri’s voice, a quick glance over his shoulder to check that - yes - they had shut the door to the deck. Nobody should have heard. He hadn’t expected that of Yuuri. Even now he was surprised at the burning gaze that stared back at him, leaving Victor slack jawed with shock. _

_ After a moment though, Yuuri’s gaze softened. He glanced away, pink cheeked. “I’ve… I’ve always looked up to you,” he finally said, voice quiet. “I always dreamed that maybe I could work for you someday. I just...” _

_ Victor wasn’t sure what he’d expected of their rendezvous but it hadn’t been this. He’d thought they’d fool around a bit. Sneak off for kisses and making out, that Yuuri would steal Victor’s breath away and Victor would just hopelessly follow, because what else was he meant to do? _

_ He never expected this. This softer approach, the raw, naked honesty and vulnerability in Yuuri’s face. _

_ He didn’t regret it though. _

_ Victor’s tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “W-who do you want me to be?” he finally rasped out. “An employer?” _

_ It was one way to hold onto Yuuri… _

_ He’d be anything for this man, anyone. He was just so desperate not to lose him, the one flickering flame in a world of darkness. If Yuuri walked away, then Victor would be plunged back into the shadows again. Victor would do absolutely anything to avoid that. _

_ Yuuri’s head ducked down though. “No.” _

_ “A benefactor?” _

_ “No.” _

_ So it wasn’t about money, Victor pieced together in his head. “A friend?” Victor desperately hoped not... _

_ “No.” _

_ He was clutching at straws now. “A … boyfriend?” He held his breath subtly, hardly daring to hope. _

_ After all, it was impossible. Victor might be inexplicably willing to leap off the bow of the ship for Yuuri but in no way could he carry him into open society. It would ruin them. It simply couldn’t be, as much as Victor’s heart ached to admit it. _

_ Yuuri’s eyes shot up at that one though, cheeks red. “No! I-” His mouth bobbed open, words catching in his throat. “I just …” _

_ Then, a frown cut into Yuuri’s expression. _

_ “I…” _

_ Victor did everything he could not to wince. He had a good poker face, he told himself, bracing for the rejection that he just wasn’t good enough, wasn’t the person Yuuri was interested in fooling around with. He could take it. He had to be able to. _

_ Maybe he should have thrown some money at him, Victor thought desperately. Yuuri must like money and comfort even if he didn’t like Victor. Maybe that was where Victor had lost him... _

_ “I just... want you to be who you are...” _

_ Victor snapped his eyes back down to Yuuri so fast that his neck clicked, lips parted with shock and eyes wide with surprise. What was that about a poker face again? Suddenly, Victor didn’t have any control. He was just a bare faced idiot at Yuuri’s mercy. _

_ The sweet blushing face staring up at him though made it very hard to care. Now, his heart was beating fast for a whole new reason. _

_ “Who I am,” Victor said breathlessly. His voice trembled. He didn’t care. “Very much wants to kiss you right now.” _

_ Yuuri didn’t answer him. _

_ Instead, he just pressed his hands over Victor’s racing heart, angled his face up, and claimed Victor’s lips in a kiss so soft that Victor didn’t bother trying to hold back his whimper. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Time had never passed so slowly. 

Yuuri hadn’t expected a reaction immediately. He knew better than the hope that Victor would read his note the second he found it tucked away under the plate, knowing that it would be impossible. He wouldn’t want Victor to risk his reputation for him anyway. He knew his place - except he clearly didn’t! 

Phichit regarded him with a judging look for the rest of the evening, probably just as anxious as Yuuri for the outcome of Yuuri’s actions.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ The next time they met, Victor ordered breakfast to be served in his suite - accompanied by a very certain steward.  _

_ “Are you expecting company?” Yuuri asked when they were alone, taking in the amount of food on the table and the second place set opposite Victor, tea already served and waiting. _

_ “Yes,” Victor just smiled as he sat down, loosening the front button on his jacket. “You. Would you care to have breakfast with me?” _

_ Yuuri’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Y-you ordered this for me?” _

_ The food on the table was way above his pay grade! He’d have to work for years to be able to afford the smoked salmon, paper thin sliced beef, buttery potatoes, sugar glazed fruit and the other mountain of food set before him. And the china - he simply wasn’t worthy to touch such elegant teacups, let alone dare drink from them! _

_ Victor didn’t seem to pay his discomfort any mind though.  _

_ “What are you waiting for?” he asked, sipping his tea. “Sit, eat.” _

_ Yuuri couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful Victor was in the mornings. His long hair was braided loosely over his left shoulder, sunlight streaming in from the windows behind and casting an ethereal halo around him. It made his bright blue eyes all the more piercing as they watched Yuuri slowly sink into his chair, feeling totally out of his depth. _

_ “W-why did you ask me here?” Yuuri asked. _

_ So far, they’d just fooled around. Kissed and made out on the decks, snuck away for stolen moments and secret grasps. _

_ This was… different. _

_ This was Victor’s suite! This was his personal space, where he dressed, where he relaxed - where he slept in the other room! Yuuri shouldn’t be there. It was so much more intimate than anything they had done before. _

_ Victor seemed totally at ease to have him there though, eating his fruit slices with honey without a qualm. _

_ His smile was achingly soft as he looked up at Yuuri. “I wanted to spend more time with you.” _

_ Yuuri was sure his heart couldn’t take it. Here he was sitting with the most beautiful man in the world who looked at him  _ like that _ just because Victor wanted to spend time with him! It was madness. Victor shouldn’t even know Yuuri’s name, let alone smile around the syllables, sigh them right back into Yuuri’s mouth as Yuurir kissed him senseles- _

_ “Yuuri!” _

_ Yuuri blinked back to the present, noticing his cheeks were a little hotter than they had been a moment before. _

_ Victor had a secretive smile on his face, fork poised in his hand. “Here,” he said, voice velvet smooth. “Try the fruit.”  _

_ Yuuri gasped quietly as Victor held out the fork towards him, a honey coated strawberry poised in its grasp. It looked delicious. Yuuri reached out to take the fork handle half a second before he noticed that Victor wasn’t offering it out to him, only the food. Victor wanted to feed him. _

_ Something molten swirled in Yuuri’s stomach as he leaned forward, holding Victor’s eye as he wrapped his lips carefully around the fork. _

_ He moaned almost instantly. _

_ The flavours burst deliciously on his tongue - the tartness of the strawberry dashed with the sweetness of the silky honey, thick, and juicy, and lavish on his lips. His eyes fluttered shut in bliss, savouring the bite. _

_ It was only when Victor’s breath hitched across the table that Yuuri realised that he still had the fork in his mouth. _

_ Victor was staring. _

_ Yuuri swallowed his bite a little too quickly, sitting back in his chair and releasing the fork. “S-sorry,” he blushed. _

_ He wasn’t the only one with pink cheeks though.  _

_ “There’s no shame in it, Yuuri,” Victor cleared his throat, voice a little raspier than it had been before. “Food keeps us both in fortune. You ...” Victor’s flush darkened. “You liked it?” _

_ Yuuri toyed with his lower lip between his teeth. “Yes.” _

_ Victor speared another strawberry without blinking, without taking his eyes off Yuuri. “Have another.” _

_ This time, Yuuri was more prepared as he leaned carefully forward, holding Victor’s eye as he slowly wrapped his lips around the fork and licked a stray dap of honey from the corner of his mouth. Victor pushed out a shaky breath across the table, Yuuri seeing the same desire he felt in his gut mirrored back at him. _

_ He liked seeing Victor like this. Flushed and desperate, the careful facade starting to unravel to the real desire beneath. The real man. He enjoyed seeing Victor’s blue eyes dark with arousal, longed for the quiet moans and whimpers he knew he could draw from those sinful lips if he wanted.  _

_ And he did want. _

_ They didn’t get through another three strawberries before Victor set the fork down with a clatter and mutter of “That’s enough food.”, getting up swiftly from his seat and crossing the table. _

_ Yuuri was already on his feet to meet him, lips already parted when Victor claimed his mouth in a breathless kiss and was pulling him towards the bedroom. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

“Another smoke, Victor?”

Victor hadn’t even noticed his cigar practically burned to the nub between his lips, blinking back to the present. 

Christophe was all that was left of the gentlemen in their party, short glass of brandy in hand as he sank into the empty armchair beside Victor’s in the smoking room. The other men had retired for the night. Victor should probably do the same. His heart was beating enough for two lifetimes at this rate.

Christophe studied him for a moment, finger pressed over his lips thoughtfully. “You’ve been quiet.”

A small smile flickered over Victor’s face. He should have known his best friend would catch him out.

“You noticed.”

Christophe’s eyes shone. “That’s not the only thing I noticed...” 

Victor’s breath caught slightly.

He trusted Chris. He’d told him about Yuuri -  _ everything  _ about Yuuri, knowing that Chris was the only person in the world who wouldn’t judge him for it. He was a romantic at heart, beneath all the drama. And he’d been there on that same ship when it had all begun. 

But hearing Chris acknowledge it made it suddenly very real again. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t madness.

Yuuri really was aboard.

Victor slowly slipped the note out of his jacket pocket, waving it up to eye level pressed between the tips of his fingers. It felt scandalous just holding it, flaunting it out in the open like it was obvious how forbidden it was. A quick glance over Chris’s shoulder reassured him that none of the other men across the smoking room were paying them any attention, not that they would be able to hear them even if they had.

It still made Victor uneasy.

Chris didn’t share the sentiment though, a wicked grin curving his lips. “I knew bringing you on this trip was a good idea.”

Victor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“We’ve yet to see...”

He still hadn’t decided what he expected to find in Yuuri’s note. He wasn’t sure he could face it if it was a rejection. Yuuri hadn’t wanted to be with him last time they’d parted - it could be a rejection. Nothing had changed in the last year that could have changed Yuuri’s mind. 

A part of him wanted to just get rid of it. He could just burn it in an ashtray or cast it overboard and nobody would ever know or speak of it again. He wouldn’t need to risk his heart again…

But if it wasn’t a rejection, then he couldn’t bear the thought of throwing away his one last lifeline for happiness. 

It rolled over and over in his head, Victor still not sure which little voice to listen to.

“I think that’s my cue,” Chris sighed, knocking back the last of his brandy with a smack of the lips. “Little Alice will need putting to bed too. She always stays up until I get back, no matter what the nanny says.” 

That brought a genuine smile to Victor’s lips. There wasn’t a soul in the world who didn’t love Christophe’s daughter, with her signature blonde curls and bright, inquisitive eyes. Not biological - adopted after her parents died in a train crash, close friends of Christophe’s family. When Chris had been set to get married, it had seemed like a great arrangement.

“She still calls you Da, you know,” Chris teased with a sparkling eye. “You’re putting me to shame.”

Victor twisted his lips in a smirk. “Sure she’s not just saying yes? Yura’s been determined to teach her Russian.”

Everyone had taken the little girl under their wing it seemed. It had made the troubles from last summer a lot easier to bear with that happy little face to distract them. Even Lilia was fond of the girl, though she’d never admit it if anybody asked.

Chris just laughed, shaking his head softly. His eyes were glowing when they caught Victor’s again. “Good luck, Victor,” he said, voice soft. “Really. I hope it works out.” 

Victor pressed his lips together in a tight smile.

He stood for farewell, kissing his friend fondly on both cheeks and taking Chris’s squeeze on the shoulder for encouragement. “Goodnight, Chris.”

_ He really hoped it worked out too. _

Victor hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath watching Chris go until the door shut behind him and the air rushed out of his lungs. There was no delaying it anymore.

His fingers tightened around the note in his hand as he sank into the nearest chair. Perhaps he should have had that last glass of brandy with Chris after all…

For a moment, he just stared at the paper.

What was on that one little page would change the rest of his life in one way or another.

… but he couldn’t put it off forever.

After a still moment, Victor finally pried the note open.

* * *

_ Dear Victor, _

_ I hope you still remember me from the Olympic. I still remember you. I thought I could forget, but I couldn’t. _

_ I’ve thought of you every day since. _

_ I know I have no right to ask but if you still think fondly of me then I would like to see you one more time. I will be serving at breakfast tomorrow.  _

_ If I don’t hear from you, I’ll understand. _

_ Yours, _

_ Yuuri _

* * *

Victor’s breath hitched, chest feeling tight and eyes stinging traitorously. It was everything he had wanted to hear for a year and…  _ God, _ it hurt. 

He read it twice.

Then once more, just to be sure. 

He savoured Yuuri’s scrawled handwriting, tracing over every dip and arch. He must have just scribbled it in the kitchen, Victor realised. There was no planning to Yuuri’s words, no carefully thought out love letter. Just raw feeling, pure desperation - the same things he had been feeling since last summer, the very words he had longed to tell Yuuri himself somehow now echoed back at him.

He had to see him, Victor thought, blinking up from the page with his heart rabbiting in his chest. He had to speak to him. He had to-

He couldn’t.

He didn’t know where Yuuri was and he couldn’t ask. He couldn’t skulk around steerage and hope to stumble upon him. He had to wait.

_ Breakfast. _

Yuuri had said he’d be serving at breakfast tomorrow morning. 

Victor may not be able to speak to him but he could smuggle a note back to him so that they could somewhere later. They could sneak off - just like they used to back on the Olympic.

Victor’s fingers itched at the thought of touching Yuuri again. He’d spent too many nights alone dreaming of peeling gloves off delicate fingers and tracing the pale skin of Yuuri’s clavicle by candlelight. He’d missed him. He’d missed him so badly, and knowing that Yuuri missed him too only made it worse. He wasn’t sure how he’d get through the night, how he could possibly sleep knowing that in the morning he’d get to see Yuuri again - really see him! 

He couldn’t wait.

One glance across the room and Victor was pushing himself to his feet, crossing the room in a matter of strides. He tapped a gentleman -  _ a gentleman with a notepad! _ \- on the shoulder.

“Sir,” he said as calm as he could despite the raging thump of his heart in his rib cage. “Might I borrow a page?”

He wouldn’t be able to sleep on it.

He had to write now, to spill out some of the things that were overflowing in his heart into words for Yuuri. Victor mumbled a quick thanks to the gentleman as he took the paper back to his chair, thanking whatever god there was for his old habit of always keeping a stubby pencil in his pocket. He had never needed it more than he did in that moment.

He didn’t write with any of his usual care or grace, spilling words clumsily onto the paper and not caring how neat they looked. It was messy - but it was honest. It was true. 

It was the least he owed Yuuri.

His hands were nearly shaking as he folded his reply and tucked it into his pocket, already thinking about the way Yuuri’s eyes would glow when Victor gave it to him. Maybe he’d even get a small smile that only he would see. Maybe-

_ A jolt. _

A jolt so tiny that Victor almost hadn’t noticed it if it hadn’t made his pencil roll off the little table beside the armchair. Victor watched it go with a frown.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ The first time Victor heard Yuuri laugh, he thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. _

_ “Really?” he chuckled, shaking his head across Victor’s stateroom. “That’s why you have a pencil in your pocket?!” _

_ Victor just shrugged from where he was elegantly sprawled out on the chaise lounge, rolling said little pencil between his fingertips. “Rich men like to gamble. You never know when you need to write a wager.” _

_ He’d ordered afternoon tea this time, spending most of his meals in his room now rather than the dining room with the other passengers. He got Yuuri all to himself this way. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before actually. _

_ They’d managed to get through some tea and tarts before Victor had pulled Yuuri into his lap, feeding him cream and jam off his fingertips. _

_ Victor would never get used to the wonderful noises Yuuri made when he ate… _

_ Now though, Yuuri just levelled him with a frank stare from across the room, eyebrows twitching. “What? You don’t get the butler to write it?” _

_ That made Victor smile. _

_ He pushed himself carefully up from the lounge, feeling unusually free with his jacket draped over the back of the chair. Yuuri’s had been shed in the exchange earlier too, his waistcoat hanging freely open as he surveyed the paintings on Victor’s back wall. Victor wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, lips nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck. _

_ “Oh, Yuuri…” he kissed leisurely down Yuuri’s neck, careful not to leave a mark. “A butler is only for the house. A  _ valet  _ is my attendant.” _

_ A quiet moan left Yuuri’s lips, head tilting to give Victor more room. _

_ Victor didn’t miss the way Yuuri’s hands were holding onto the side table for support, knuckles white around the varnished wood. _

_ "And, um…” Yuuri sighed as Victor’s fingertips dipped between the buttons of Yuuri’s shirt. “W-where is your valet now?"  _

_ Yuuri’s skin was warm beneath Victor’s touch, Victor itching to feel more of him. He had seen Yuuri shirtless by now, traced the fine lines of his torso with his tongue and peppered secret marks into his collar and hipbones. He hadn’t been able to resist, his blood going hot every time he saw Yuuri and knew that it was his brand that lurked beneath that clean cut uniform.  _

_ Victor’s spare hand started to unpick the buttons of Yuuri’s shirt, pulling the tails free from his trousers.  _

_ "Dismissed for the evening," he breathed against Yuuri’s jawline. "I'm all yours..." _

_ Even in the privacy of Victor’s room, time was usually against them. People expected to see Victor either side of mealtimes and there was always a service that Yuuri had to prepare for before too long. They never had enough time. _

_ This time though, Yuuri had a rare break in shift. Victor had made his excuses too, freeing him for the evening. _

_ They had time. _

_ “Victor…” Yuuri sighed, head tipping back against Victor’s shoulder. His eyes were fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. _

_ Victor thought he was beautiful. _

_ “What do you want?” _

_ He rolled his hips forward as he asked, the hard line of his cock in his trousers pressing against Yuuri’s firm backside. He knew it was teasing. He knew it was mean. He couldn’t help it though - he needed the relief, already aching with need. He just couldn’t get enough of Yuuri. _

_ Yuuri reached up, fingers threading through the carefully woven braids of Victor’s hair. He pulled Victor down, guiding his mouth to his in a sloppy kiss. _

_ “Everything,” he breathed against Victor’s lips. _

_ Victor’s breath hitched in his chest as Yuuri pulled Victor’s hand away from his shirt, guiding him lower and lower until he smoothed Victor’s fingers over an unmistakable hardness in the front of his trousers. Victor buried his groan into Yuuri’s shoulder, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. _

_ “Make me yours.” _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri woke with a jolt. 

Just a jolt - a tiny bump that had already all but gone as soon as it had come by the time he blinked his eyes open, frowning up at the ceiling through the darkness. He felt the last scraps of vibrations shudder through the walls.

It was probably nothing.

Their crew berth was stationed near the engine room - it was probably just something from there. A rush of steam, or a small fire, or the metal just groaning as it carved the path of a titan through the icy black waters of the Atlantic. It happened. It happened a lot actually - the heart of the ship, it was to be expected! He’d been on plenty of ships before. He knew there were bumps. Bumps happened. 

It was probably nothing, he told himself again, sinking deeper into the mattress and forcing his shoulders to relax, closing his eyes.

...so why couldn’t he go back to sleep?

It only got worse when the engines stopped.

His eyes snapped open again as soon as the eerie silence settled though from the engine rooms, no longer the quiet roar of the furnaces or the rush of steam. The engines had stopped. The ship had stopped. Why had they stopped?

An unsettled feeling churned in his gut. 

It was probably a precaution, he told himself, hands meeting under his sheets and fingers twisting unnervingly. It wasn’t unheard of for ships to stop when conditions were bad. There could be icebergs. That was probably it, the Captain just waiting for better light come morning to resume safe sail.

It happened, he told himself for the hundredth time, hoping that at last it might sink in and he could go back to sleep.

It didn’t. 

Yuuri wasn’t sure how long he lay quiet in the darkness, listening for anything new, waiting for more gentle bumps to relieve him that it had been nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody else had woken from it, after all. Snores still echoed softly around the berth, men still sound in their bunks - except Yuuri.

There was a crawling sensation that he just couldn’t shake, a creep inching down his spine the longer he lay there waiting. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, nerves clawing at his gut until-

The engines murmured to life.

It wasn’t a roar. It wasn’t a surge. It was a quiet crawl, engines quieter than they had been before, inching the ship back to life again but still very much working.

Yuuri sighed a breath of relief.

Speed control, he reasoned, letting his eyes fall shut again and shoulders finally sagging back into his mattress. They were just slowing down. It made sense on such a dark night, a sensible cautious decision. It was nothing.

The whole thing slipped out of his mind, rolling over in his bunk and letting himself be lulled back to drowsiness by the quiet murmur of the engines.

Until they stopped again.

His eyes snapped open.

He had barely jerked upright in his bunk before the door of their cabin suddenly swung open, Celestino banging a fist on the door and wrenching the other men out of their slumber. 

His eyes found Yuuri’s first though, darkened with a shadow that had fear curling in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach. “Man the lifeboats.”


	2. Chapter 2

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ Yuuri felt as light as a feather cradled against Victor’s side, his finger drawing lazy, impossible patterns across Victor’s bare chest. _

_ Beneath the sheets, they were both naked. _

_ “That tickles,” Victor giggled -  _ giggled! -  _ catching Yuuri’s hand and pressing tender kisses to his fingertips. His eyes were electric, cheeks still flushed a passionate red that Yuuri knew bled all the way down his torso. _

_ He couldn’t stop staring. _

_ He knew it was rude, but he was too boneless and relaxed to care, putty against Victor’s side and muscles molten as their skin pressed flush. Yuuri never wanted to let go, to stay in Victor’s bed forever. He’d never known he could feel so good. His body still ached with the memory of their love making, leaving tantalizing tell-tell reminders of what they had done. He hoped they’d never fade. He never wanted to forget it, all the ways Victor had made him his.  _

_ Victor’s fingers squeezed gently around his own, drawing his attention up to Victor’s softening gaze.  _

_ “Stay,” he breathed, barely more than a whisper. “Stay here... with me.” _

_ Yuuri groaned quietly, burying his face in Victor’s shoulder. _

_ He wanted to. He wanted to, so badly. But if somebody saw him leaving in the morning or his absence from the crew’s berth was noted, he’d be more than just fired. Phichit might be able to cover for him with Celestino as long as Yuuri actually turned up to his shift on time, but if he was caught in Victor’s room, in Victor’s bed… _

_ The idea of tearing himself from Victor’s side was nearly impossible though. Even as he thought it, he sank deeper against Victor’s warm skin, his thigh trailing slowly higher against Victor’s like it was staking a silent claim. _

_ After all, this might be his only chance to be able to. _

_ In just a few short days, they would dock in America and Yuuri might never see Victor again.  _

_ “Okay,” he said against his better judgement, letting his head fall back against Victor’s shoulder. “I wish I could stay with you forever...” _

_ Yuuri was aware he was talking too much, being too careless, being too candid with the words slipping from his lips. He couldn’t help it. He was boneless with release and his brain still lagged half a minute behind the words leaving his mouth. _

_ Victor’s chest bobbed with his chuckles, Yuuri hearing the smile in his voice. “That sounded almost like a marriage proposal.” _

_ Yuuri’s lips flickered in a tired smile. _

_ He was exhausted. He could feel himself start to slip into slumber, lulled by the warmth of Victor’s body and the comfort of his arms. He’d stay. He wasn’t sure he could leave even if he tried now, too tired, too comfortable, too selfish and stupid as he let himself doze to Victor’s heartbeat... _

_ “Why don’t you?”  _

_ Yuuri’s eyes snapped open. _

_ He found Victor’s instantly, still staring down at him. They weren’t glittering and wistful though - they were firm, Victor’s smile gone. He was serious. _

_ His arm tightened around Yuuri, drawing him closer. “Come to Russia with me.” _

_ Yuuri forgot how to breathe. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

The First Class Lounge had never looked so chaotic. Men and ladies swarmed the lounge, donned in big coats and life jackets upon the urging of the stewards, most of them making a fuss about being roused from their beds so late and complaining about the disturbance. Yuuri had faced it all first hand, convincing a handful of unhelpful passengers from their cabins as he’d made his way through a Second Class corridor, clearing rooms as he went and picking up as many lifejackets as he could carry.

His own was draped over his shoulders but not tied, strings hanging loose by his hip. His fingers had been too numb to tie it properly for now. It was fine, he told himself, trying to steel his nerves. No ship sank that quickly. He had time.

But was the ship  _ really  _ sinking?

“Sir,” he said, catching Celestino’s attention and handing him a life jacket. The rest he shared out among the stewards. “I cleared a few staterooms, t-though I wasn’t sure what to tell them.”

Celestino said nothing, avoiding his eye. 

It made Yuuri uneasy.

Especially when Celestino slipped the life jacket over his own head and secured the ties around his waist with sure, firm tugs. There was no demonstration for the passengers, no courtesy or show. 

It wasn’t a drill.

Yuuri leaned in closer, voice barely above a whisper. “How serious is this?” The answer already sat heavy in his gut with dread. A part of him already knew.

They never had drills like this. This was a maiden voyage - it was supposed to be perfect, smooth, flawless for the reports in the papers. Disturbances were an inconvenience that looked poor on the  _ White Star Line _ . They wouldn’t wake passengers so carelessly unless… unless they had to. And if they had to-

Celestino just gave him a dark eye, the likes of which Yuuri had never seen cross the older man’s face before. “Just do your duty.”

Yuuri had his answer.

Across the lounge, the band strung up. A calming melody washed over the room, soothing over the chatter of the passengers. It did nothing to help Yuuri’s nerves though, blinking to keep his composure. He had to hold it together - he had a job to do. He had life vests to hand out, cabins to clear, lifeboats to help board...

He cut through the lounge, slipping out the doors into the busy corridors, plan clear in his mind.  _ Check the staterooms. Collect the passengers. Life jackets. Check the staterooms. Collect the passengers. Life jackets. Check the staterooms. Collect the passengers. Life jacket- _

A glass on the table caught his eye as he passed through the hallway, making him pause. 

The brandy inside tilted to starboard. 

Yuuri swallowed a thick lump in his throat.

He didn’t want to think about what it might mean.

When he glanced up from it, he caught a flash of silver hair and cerulean eyes leaving the Smoking Room, surprise flashing in that crystal blue gaze. Their eyes caught for barely a moment before he was whisked away.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ Yuuri was shaking as he made his way to Victor’s suite the next day, accompanying the food cart. If the other men noticed, they didn’t say anything. Victor didn’t say anything either as he passed him going into the stateroom, busying himself with setting the table and hoping that Victor didn’t see the way his hands trembled. _

_ He’d snuck out of Victor’s room in the early hours of that morning before he’d be missed from his cabin… but he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind what Victor had said. _

_ ‘That sounded almost like a marriage proposal…’ _

_ Suddenly, everything had clicked into place. _

_ He needed to give Victor something, something that he could remember Yuuri by - even if they were separated at the end of the voyage.  _

_ At least some small part of Yuuri would still be with Victor out somewhere in the world, connecting them wherever they might be. With any luck, they might one day find each other again. _

_ Maybe… _

_ Only Yuuri didn’t have anything. He hadn’t brought anything with him - his belongings left back in his lodgings in England - and even if he was somehow able to get something in New York, it would be too late. Victor would be gone.  _

_ “Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Victor asked, taking his seat at the table. His attention lingered on Yuuri though. “You’re quiet...” _

_ Yuuri didn’t say anything. _

_ Victor half-heartedly stirred jam into his tea. “I missed you leaving last night...” _

_ That one twisted Yuuri’s gut. He could hear the hesitation in Victor’s voice, the trepidation, the unspoken fear… he couldn’t let that go unanswered. _

_ He cleared his throat. “I wanted to give you something.” _

_ Victor’s eyes blinked bright, head snapping over to Yuuri. He was still lingering by the chaise lounge, only half turned towards Victor. “What?” _

_ Yuuri’s dilemma. _

_ He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath as he disturbed the carefully combed back locks. “I don’t know…” he sighed, admitting it. What was the point in lying? Victor knew who he was, that he had nothing. “Something for good luck? Something for us, but I… I don’t have anything.”  _

_ He was ashamed to look at Victor, but he felt obliged to as he confessed. All he had to offer was his honesty. _

_ The look that stared back surprised him. _

_ He watched Victor’s bright eyes harden, watched his open mouth close and the Russian slowly rise from his chair. A solemn sense washed over him.  _

_ “Wait here.” _

_ Yuuri didn’t dare move as Victor crossed the room, disappearing into his bedroom. Yuuri didn’t even look after him. He had a feeling not to, that it was better to do as he was told and wait. His heart beat faster in his chest with anticipation. What was Victor doing? Yuuri couldn’t decipher that look in his eyes, had never seen Victor look so serious since the first day they had met and Yuuri had smashed a plate at his feet…  _

_ Was he finally understanding the difference between them? Perhaps only now Victor was really seeing it, the disparity between the two worlds they came from. _

_ A touch to Yuuri’s hand alerted him to when Victor had come back. _

_ Kinder eyes were waiting for him when he looked up this time, a small smile playing on Victor’s lips. His fingers curled around Yuuri’s as he brought them up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles softly. _

_ “Then let me give  _ you  _ something,” he breathed, sending ripples of goosebumps up Yuuri’s arm.  _

_ It was only then that Yuuri noticed the little box in Victor’s other hand. _

_ “It was my grandmother’s,” Victor said as he followed Yuuri’s gaze, holding up the box between them. “They couldn’t afford much back then, but … but she said my grandfather was the love of her life...” _

_ Victor thumbed the box open, and gold glittered. _

_ It was simple, yet precious. The solid gold band that gleamed from the velvet box may be plain but it glittered gloriously, evidently well loved, clearly cared for. The way Victor stared down at it with glowing eyes told Yuuri all he needed to know about how precious it was. _

_... so his breath caught when Victor plucked it free of the velvet and rolled it carefully between his fingers. _

_ He caught Yuuri’s eye. _

_ “Do you know what this means?” Victor asked, voice barely more than a whisper. _

_ Yuuri met his gaze, for once unwavering. He’d never wanted anything more, heart pounding in his chest and drowning in the adoration glowering in Victor’s eyes.  _

_ “I know.” _

_ As Victor slid the ring onto Yuuri’s finger, Yuuri wished that the ship would never stop sailing. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

His plan changed as quickly as it was formed. One look at the stateroom corridors, swarmed with passengers and stewards already assisting their charges from their cabins, and Yuuri had u-turned. He wasn’t needed there. He went to his lifeboat instead, ready to do his duty - but even that didn’t go right.

His lifeboat was still preparing to be swung out by the time he got to the Boat Deck, slipping his way through a small crowd to see. All men; a few male passengers, four sailors working on swinging out the boat and a few other crew, but no women. Women would be loaded first, he knew, and children. They weren’t ready to load yet, even if the lifeboat had been ready for boarding. He still had time.

He leaned over the side of the banister, wood frighteningly cold beneath his hands. Another lifeboat was being lowered further down the ship, a smattering of bodies inside.

He looked away from it, glancing down the line of the ship for any trace of damage. He couldn’t see a thing - the hull looked as smooth and flawless as ever, no trace of danger. Not even a scratch! Maybe it was just a poorly timed drill after all, Celestino’s dire attitude only regarding the inevitably disgruntled passengers. 

_ Maybe… _

His stomach still flipped uneasily though, not quite buying it. He didn’t linger, straightening up quickly.

It was only then that he really started to notice the chatter to his teeth. Numbness pricked at his fingertips and his next breath was icily cold in his throat, lips chapping in the cold air. It was cold. Frightfully cold! His thin jacket was little protection underneath his loose life vest, the chill sinking into his skin under the clothes. He would be out in the frigid air a great deal longer when the boats started loading and passengers started to fill the deck, and by then he wouldn’t be able to do anything but endure it.

For now though, he still had time - time enough to grab a coat at least. He knew he’d thank himself later, turning on his heel from the deck, making his way back through the busy Lounge and down the servants steps. 

He didn’t pass a soul on the way, not sure what that meant.

The corridors were eerily quiet. 

He didn’t pause to reflect, knowing that he had to hurry. He walked quickly, footsteps echoing back at him. Already, he might be late back on deck already by the time he got back. Celestino wouldn’t be happy, especially if it was a drill, even if-

Yuuri’s next step splashed.

He leapt back with a cry, staggering out of the puddle and heart leaping into his mouth. His shout echoed back at him, only terrifying him more.

He stared at the floor, shocked. 

Water.  _ Actual  _ water. It crept along the floor towards him - slowly but surely - forward E-deck all but submerged as he lifted his gaze, following the corridor. It was all steeped in water, thick, and deep, and menacing. His bunk and coat lay at the end of it, if he might dare.

But he didn’t.

The water was still rising. It inched towards him mockingly slow, almost calm in its predatory advance. Yuuri backed up another step, unable to look away from the glassy water creeping closer. He knew how cold that water must be. Even if he dared test the rising water’s speed, he knew he would never win against its temperature. It would be too cold, sapping his strength even if he could get to his bunk, time slipping through his fingers as the water cut him off all too soon and won.

He would drown.

He would  _ die. _

The thought had his next breath hitching, the last of his courage failing him - he turned and ran, feeling the water’s hunting gaze on his back.

It terrified him - but the reality terrified him more! The ship was sinking. It wasn’t a drill. There was water in the ship and it was sinking. In an instant, Yuuri knew - the bump that had woken him hadn’t been the engine room. He didn’t know what it was, but he was willing to bet his life that whatever it had been had been the act of fate that would soon doom them all.

He flew up the first flight of stairs that he could find, tackling them two at a time. He didn’t care. He didn’t stop, desperate to get out of the water’s reach.

It was coming for him. It was coming for all of them.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ At the next meal, Victor wasn’t alone. And he wasn’t quiet. _

_ “Victor, have you lost your mind?!” a young boy screamed, weaving flawlessly through the servants bringing food into the suite and setting the table. He paid them no heed. “It’s stupid even for you!” _

_ Victor just waved him off, looking nonplussed. “Don’t be so dramatic. It will be fine-” _

_ “It will not be fine!” _

_ Yuuri didn’t know what was going on. He just helped the other servants, preparing the table and keeping his head down. He didn’t know who the boy was, but he was finely dressed and hello his head proudly - he wasn’t nobody. Yuuri had to be careful. He had to be a servant again. _

_ “You made a promise!” the boy yelled, yanking a chair back from the table so violently that it clattered back and fell. “You said that you woul-” _

_ “Plans change, Yuri,” Victor said calmly, eyes flickering across the room to Yuuri. A tiny smile twitched on his lips.  _

_ The boy - Yuri - followed his gaze.  _

_ Yuuri shrank under the scrutiny, suddenly realising that he was the only steward left. The others had already fled - wisely, Yuuri now realised. _

_ “Um,” Yuuri stepped forward, still unsure of what was going on. He had no idea who Yuri was, how much he knew… he decided to play it safe, shaky hands reaching for the teapot on the table. “W-would you like some tea, sir?”  _

_ It felt weird actually being a steward again. Victor was making him sloppy. _

_ “Don’t worry about him, Yuuri,” Victor waved off calmly. “Pay him no mind.” _

_ The kid’s eyes flashed. “Yuuri?!” _

_ “This is my cousin,” Victor shrugged, ignoring him. “Yuri Plisetsky.” _

_ “Just because I am your aunt's ward  _ does not _ make me your cousin!” _

_ “He’s an energetic youngster,” Victor smiled, finger poised over his lips. “But it might get confusing with two of you so…” He pointed at his cousin. “Yuri, you’ll be Yurio from now on.” _

_ “What?!” Yuri’s eyes popped wide. “No, you cannot be serious-” _

_ “Yuuri might be joining us in St Petersburg.”  _

_ Yuuri held his breath. _

_ He didn’t know what he and Victor was but he’d assumed it was a secret. This, telling the boy … it wasn’t a secret anymore. Yuuri hadn’t prepared for it. _

_ His chest tightened, eyes going wide with panic. _

_ He wasn’t the only one. _

_ Yurio’s eyes darted back and forth between Yuuri and Victor, connecting the dots. Only an idiot wouldn’t see it, Yuuri thought, heart racing.  _

_ Suddenly, Yurio glanced down to Yuuri’s hand. They were hidden by gloves, but Yuuri reacted out of instinct, smacking his free hand over his fingers where the ring was, as if Yurio could see it through the cloth somehow. _

_ “Victor, you didn’t…” _

_ He spoke Victor’s name but his eyes caught Yuuri’s, the shock and disbelief barely masked.  _

_ Yuuri felt only panic. _

_ “Victor,” Yurio said, voice suddenly sharp - but not screaming. Quiet. Dignified. Urgent. “I need to talk to you.” _

_ He didn’t wait. He turned with one last glare at Yuuri and marched towards the door, grabbing Victor by the lapels of his jacket with a strength beyond his years. Victor didn’t fight back, letting himself be hauled away. Perhaps he’d known it was coming. _

_ Even if he had, Yuuri hadn’t.  _

_ He still jumped when the door slammed shut behind the two Russians, leaving him alone and shaken. _

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri hadn’t noticed the stairs he had taken were the first class stairwell until he found himself walking through the staterooms, the corridor he walked through surprisingly quiet. It was a good sign, he told himself. Passengers were going to the right places to evacuate rather than linger in their rooms.

But at the same time, it terrified him - above all, he didn’t want to die alone.

His breaths sounded ridiculously loud as he walked, just about burying the urge to sprint down the corridors until he got to the decks. He couldn’t panic here. People would see. Passengers might see. He had to-

Shouting distracted him. 

He blinked out of his haze long enough to see two figures further down the corridor - a woman and a boy, in the doorway of a stateroom.

Yuuri quickened his pace toward them. They needed to leave, blissfully unaware of the water seeping through the decks just a floor below them. Yuuri’s tongue darted out to wet his dry lips at the thought, heart still rampant in his chest.

“Madam, pleas-”

He barely got two words out before he froze, the teenage boy whipping his head round to him the second he spoke. 

Yuuri knew them.

“Master Plisetsky?” Yuuri gasped, stunned. Of all the people in the world… of course, they would be on the same ship as Victor. The boy’s blonde hair and sharp green eyes hadn’t changed in the time since Yuuri had last met him, still dangerously beautiful like the glint of a knife edge. Yuuri’s gaze shifted to the woman. “Lady Baranovskaya?”

The former prima ballerina tugged the door to her stateroom shut firmly as she was announced, her cold eyes snapping at Yuuri.

He only just didn’t flinch. 

Instead, he remembered the water - and shuddered. 

“Please,” he said suddenly, stepping forward and opening his arm down the corridor. He needed to get them out, hoping that they didn’t notice the pale tinge to his skin or the twitch in the corner of his mouth. “The lifeboats are this way.” 

He had to be calm.

He had to fight against the panic clawing up inside him for the sake of serving his passengers, keeping them calm while he led them to safety. He had to. It was his job.

He expected an argument or an interrogation, but he didn’t give them a chance to start one as he walked straight past, hoping beyond hope that they would follow him. He couldn’t didn’t know what he would do if they didn’t. Only, yes, he did - he wouldn’t leave them. He  _ couldn’t  _ leave them. As much as it terrified him, it was his job to get these people to safety and knowing what he knew about the monster lurking just a deck below-

“Oi!”

Yuuri’s eyes fluttered shut with relief at the shout behind him, footsteps running to catch up. A glance over his shoulder a moment later saw a flash of blonde hair at his heel. 

“This had better not be a drill,” the teen growled, voice quiet but deadly, his thick accent only making it sound all the more menacing.

It wasn’t quiet enough though.

“Yura!” Lady Baranovskaya snapped, a few paces behind. “Manners.”

Yuuri just tweaked a small smile over his shoulder, hoping it didn’t look as waxy on his face as it felt. “Not to worry, sir,” he said as calmly as he could muster. “Everything’s under control.”

_ He hoped.  _

He didn’t know what they knew. He wasn’t sure what was being told to the passengers. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what was even happening, not even believing the ship had really been sinking himself until he’d seen the water with his own eyes! He didn’t want to scare them, but he couldn’t lie either. Vague. He needed to be vague, while giving enough information to get them to take him seriously.

So far, it was enough.

There was no argument as he led them up the next stairwell they found and across the Boat Deck, offering his arm to Lady Baranovskaya to help her into the lifeboat and thankful when no one stopped the boy from going in after her. He was just a boy. He deserved a chance.

That same courtesy wouldn’t last the night the higher the waters rose, Yuuri only too aware of the clock ticking with every breath he took.

It was only a matter of time.

It was that sole thought that had him reaching out to catch Yurio’s sleeve, teen turning half a step before he crossed the lifeboat. 

“Victor?” Yuuri hissed, urgently. “Have you seen him?” He had to ask.

The teen’s eyes flashed with something Yuuri couldn’t place. “No.”

Where was Victor? He was probably already off the ship if he’d had any sense, hopefully one of the men who had managed to get a place in a lifeboat after all the women and children present had been loaded. Yuuri had seen men in some of the away lifeboats, filling spaces that needed to be taken. He hoped Victor was one of them, hoping that he would look after the others in his stead when the inevitable happened.

There was still more he could do aboard for now though, Yuuri slipping back below deck to check more cabins. If Yura and Lilia had been delayed, others might have been too.

“Yuuri-”

And then there he was, blocking the corridor right in front of him.

Yuuri’s eyes flashed with panic.

He didn’t break stride, heart skipping a beat in his chest and adrenaline coursing through his veins.  _ Not here _ , was all he could remember thinking. They couldn’t be seen - not chatting, not in a very public first class corridor! Yuuri moved swiftly. One hand twisted the handle to his right, one grabbed a fistful of Victor’s crisp jacket, and hauled him inside.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_ Every part of Yuuri wanted to flee. He wanted to turn and run out of the stateroom, leave Victor and Yurio to work out whatever was going on and pretend that everything was fine. He didn’t know what to do if it wasn’t. He wasn’t a part of this world. He didn’t know what to do. _

_ But he couldn’t run. _

_ His hands curled into fists and his nails dug hard into his palms, biting his lip to distract from the pain. It distracted him from the burn in the corner of his eyes too. _

_ His eyes moved to the door - Victor’s bedroom. _

_ The place where Yuuri had finally dreamed of a better life - not because of the suite he was in or the finery around him, but the man with his arm around him. _

_ Who knew what words were being exchanged behind that door.... _

_ Without thinking, Yuuri took a step forward. _

_ He stopped himself a heartbeat later though _

_ What was he thinking? Eavesdropping on their conversation - it was wrong, not only because of his station. He should trust Victor. He  _ did _ trust Victor - with his life! … so why was he still eying the door, an unsettled feeling curling in his gut? Something wasn’t right. There was something in Yuri Plisetsky’s eyes that had worried him. _

_ He moved swiftly and silently, crossing the room to the door and leaning his ear against it, straining to hear.  _

_ They weren’t yelling anymore - now, they were whispering. _

_ “What do you think you’re doing?!” he heard Yuri Plisetsky hiss. “You gave him the ring?!” _

_ He could almost see Victor’s nonchalant shrug.  _

_ “It’s none of your business.” _

_ “Have you told Yakov? Have you told Chris?! Victor, the wedding is in less than a month!” _

_ Yuuri’s heart buckled. Wedding? What wedding? Victor had never said anything about a wedding. _

_ “It’s my decision,” Victor said, coldly. _

_ It might not be what he thought, Yuuri tried to reason to himself. No names were mentioned. It could be anyone’s wedding! Nobody had said that it was- _

_ “It’s your decision that affects all of us! Your marriage protects us all!” _

_ Yuuri felt like his knees were going to give out. _

_ He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth to keep himself silent and pulling away from the door. He stared at the dark, varnished wood like it was growing thorns out of the woodwork, like poisonous vines were reaching out for him. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. _

_ Victor was engaged - just not to him. _

_ Yuuri staggered back a step, chest tight. His hand was trembling over his mouth, head shaking as he retreated. _

_ It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. Victor would have told him… but he hadn’t, and there was no reason for them to be lying in a conversation behind closed doors. Victor was getting married - in a month! - and he hadn’t told Yuuri. _

_ Maybe he never intended to. Maybe all Yuuri was to him after all was one last bit of fun before he was forced to settle down once and for all… _

_ Yuuri didn’t want to believe it. _

_ The ring burned traitorously beneath his glove, like it could sense the betrayal. The lie. _

_ He couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t bear to see the look in Victor’s eyes when he came out of that room whatever it was. Guilt at what he had done or happiness at seeing Yuuri, even though he knew Yuuri wasn’t his intended and had kept that hidden from him. Yuuri didn’t want to see. He couldn’t - he wasn’t sure his heart could bear it. _

_ He turned and fled, not daring to stop until he could hear the clang of pots and the bustle of the kitchen, feeling faint as the wave of heat hit him. His head span, the horror still following him. _

_ “Yuuri?” _

_ Through the haze, Phichit’s face swam. _

_ Yuuri’s lip quivered a millisecond before he broke, collapsing into his best friend’s arms and body heaving with sobs for a life that could never be.  _


	3. Chapter 3

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

“What are you doing here?” Yuuri gasped as he slammed the door to the empty stateroom shut behind him and Victor, emotions rushing up his throat so fast it felt like they were choking him, bringing tears to the corners of his eyes and making the breath catch in his throat. He just couldn’t believe it. Victor was still here. He was _still here!_ “You should be on a lifeboat-”

“I had to see you,” Victor just said, stepping forward with a determined look in his eye. “I had to. I couldn’t leave you behind, not after-”

Yuuri scrunched his eyes shut. _Don’t say it,_ he silently pleaded.

“-not after the note.”

It was like a blow to the heart. Yuuri felt his stomach turn as Victor said it, horror seeping like ice through his veins. His note. His note that basically confessed his undying love for Victor. If that note now got Victor killed, Yuuri would never forgive himself.

When he dared peel his eyes open, Victor was staring at him. His eyes hadn’t changed in the last year - still bright, still beautiful - staring at Yuuri with a glittering hope that damn near broke Yuuri’s heart.

“Victor, we can’t,” he gulped thickly. _They never could._ “You have to go. You have to get off the ship-”

“Not without you.”

Yuuri hated him in that moment. He hated his stubbornness, the unwavering determination that was glaring back at him in those fierce crystal eyes, refusing to budge. He hated him for caring. He’d tear that stupid note to pieces right at Victor’s feet now if he could, if it would get him into a lifeboat.

Yuuri raked a hand through his hair, gasping in a ragged breath. “Don’t you understand what’s happening?” he breathed, voice barely more than a whisper. He could still see the glassy water in his mind’s eye, creeping ever closer... “It’s not a drill, Victor! You have to get out of here and I can’t go!”

He had to stay. 

He had to stay and man his lifeboat, and there was no way that Victor could wait for him. The courtesy granted to Yura earlier wouldn’t last the night...

They couldn’t wait.

“Victor-”

“I love you.”

That, Yuuri didn’t have an argument for.

_It wasn’t fair,_ he thought, tears beading in the corners of his eyes the longer he held Victor’s eye and it didn’t look away, didn’t falter, didn’t _lie._ How did Victor do this? Get to waltz back into his life and make Yuuri feel things that he _couldn’t_ feel about Victor, give him hope - _it wasn’t fair_ , he thought again, heart tight in his chest. 

He’d dreamed of hearing those words for so long, fantasised about Victor’s lips wrapping around the syllables and whispering them in his ear…

… not like this.

Not when all Yuuri could think about was the slow advance of death below deck and the chill of not knowing how many souls would see the next sunrise.

He didn’t say a word as Victor reached up to his jacket, hand over his heart - over the pocket that likely held his letter, Yuuri realised, reading the suddenly fragile glitter in Victor’s eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

Yuuri didn’t need to ask what he meant.

His tongue slowly wet his lips, gathering his courage. “Every day,” he echoed his letter.

Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t missed Victor with all his heart and regretted how they’d parted. It had been the worst year of his life, knowing that Victor was somewhere out in the world and that he might never see him again. He wanted to see him for the rest of his life. He never wanted to be without him again.

_But he had to be._

He swallowed a sob at the thought, but he knew it was true. If he cared about Victor at all, he had to throw him into a lifeboard and get him away from the cursed ship _now._ Time was slipping through his fingers.

He didn’t move though. 

Not as Victor stepped forward as if guided by the link in their eyes, unable to look away for even a second even if he had wanted to.

He was already drowning in those crystal blue eyes as cool fingers brushed over his jawline and he gasped at the touch, watching Victor’s eyes crinkle with his smile. They travelled a smooth, leisurely path up over his cheek. Yuuri’s skin tingled in Victor’s wake. A shuddering breath choked out of his lungs, heart stuttering in his chest as he leaned into Victor’s palm, savouring the contact. He’d missed this.

“I knew it the minute I saw you here,” Victor sighed, breath warm as it washed over Yuuri’s skin.

It made his knees weak. “B-but you-”

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri didn’t blink his vision clear in time before Victor closed the gap between them, slotting his mouth against Yuuri’s so easily it was sinful.

Yuuri squeaked into the kiss, unexpected.

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad, but he knew what Victor’s kisses would do to him and there simply wasn’t _time._

His hands braced on Victor’s chest, regrettably pushing him away.

“Victor, we can’t-”

Victor broke away with a groan, stepping back to run a hand through his hair. “Then tell me!” he snapped, eyes fierce again when they landed on Yuuri. “What were you going to tell me tomorrow?”

Yuuri’s mouth dropped open. What had he been going to tell Victor?

He didn’t know.

He hadn’t thought it through too much. He’d just been so desperate to see Victor one more time, to speak to him, touch him if he could… beg for a second chance? He wasn’t sure. He’d just needed Victor again. All he’d known was that he didn’t get Victor’s attention at dinner, he would never see him again.

He hadn’t been able to live with that.

“I-I don’t-” his mouth dropped open and closed like a fish, heart racing under the pressure. What could he say? “I-”

Victor was so beautiful. 

Even frustrated and mad, he was stunning. Yuuri couldn’t look away, heat curling in his belly the longer he stared at the quiet blaze in Victor’s eyes and the fine features pressed with intensity. It made the breath catch in his throat and heart tighten in his chest. He couldn’t lose him.

“I-”

He couldn’t bear to lose him again.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” was all he sighed before he crashed their mouths together again.

Victor staggered back - but Yuuri followed him, both of them stumbling back until Victor’s back hit the far wall of the suite. Even then they didn’t stop. Victor’s fingers dove into Yuuri’s hair, holding him close and groaning into Yuuri’s mouth. The kiss was dirty. All tongue and teeth, hips grinding and moans swallowed up with kisses. 

Yuuri had missed this. His hands ran down the front of Victor’s torso, feeling the still firm physique beneath the fine clothes, tracing the lean lines of muscle down his stomach.

He paused when he got to Victor’s belt, breath hitching.

“Stop thinking,” Victor gasped, chest heaving against Yuuri’s and eyes still pressed shut. “I haven’t been able to think straight since that first dance and I don’t regret it.”

Yuuri closed his eyes too, dropping his forehead down to Victor’s shoulder. He wanted to listen, to surrender as Victor’s combed through his hair.

Then, his eyes snapped open.

“What dance?” he frowned, looking up.

Victor frowned too, eyes blinking open. He looked flushed and wrecked - _perfect_ , Yuuri thought. His eyes were confused though. “You don’t- _ah!”_

He cut off with a gasp, hands reaching up to grasp Yuuri’s jacket in shock as his face paled. His eyes snapped downwards, Yuuri following his gaze. What he saw made his blood freeze.

_Water_.

“Oh my God,” Victor breathed. 

Now, Yuuri could feel it. It was only a few centimetres but it was _cold_ , Yuuri finally feeling the icy chill through his shoes. Glancing back over his shoulder, he could see it coming, leaking from under the door frame.

_It was coming._

He straightened up off Victor in a heartbeat, his own rabbiting in his chest. “We need to go.” 

This time, Victor didn’t argue.

He slotted his hand into Yuuri’s, staring down at the water with wide, terrified eyes. “Yes.”

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_“It was arranged by my uncle.”_

_Victor spoke quietly and subdued, he and Yuuri lay loosely tangled together on the chaise lounge. Yuuri’s head lay on Victor’s chest, over his heart. It was beating slowly._

_“There’s a difference between new money and old money, you see,” Victor went on, fingers combing carefully through Yuuri’s hair. “My family is only rich by a few generations. Nothing really. And old money doesn’t approve of my industry, dining out for the world to see. It’s not dignified. It’s not done. And they’re very… influential. Very powerful.”_

_Yuuri blinked fast against Victor’s waistcoat._

_A part of him wasn’t sure why he’d come back. As soon as he’d heard Victor and Yurio’s conversation, he’d known it was futile._

_It was over._

_But then another meal had come, another request for Victor’s regular steward… Yuuri had followed the food cart with a heart like a stone in water. He couldn’t stay away. As much as he couldn’t bear to see Victor, not seeing him while he was still all he could think about was an even worse torture._

_He’d kept his eyes low as he’d re-entered Victor’s suite. Yuri had been long gone, Victor alone again._

_When the other stewards had left, Yuuri had chanced a glance up - as soon as he’d caught Victor’s mournful eye, he’d burst into tears. It had taken nearly an hour for him to calm down enough to listen to what Victor was saying. Victor was crying too, tears wet against Yuuri’s cheek as he’d clutched Yuuri close._

_As night fell and the food grew cold, they’d moved - exhausted - to the chaise lounge, clutching each other like it was their last night on Earth._

_“Chris is old money.”_

_Yuuri winced as Victor said the other man’s name. Chris - the man Victor would marry, the man that would have his heart instead of Yuuri._

_“My uncle hoped that our union would help bridge the gap, merge the two worlds together so we’d have a future…”_

_Victor sighed shakily, voice trailing off._

_He didn’t have to say anything else - Yuuri understood perfectly. It wasn’t much of a choice._

_“You have to marry him,” he pieced together aloud._

_Victor sighed beneath him. “Yuuri-”_

_“Your family needs you.”_

_Yuuri’s fingers curled in Victor’s sleeve where his hand had been resting against Victor’s bicep, clutching the material tight. There was a lump in his throat, blinking against the burning in the corners of his eyes._

_He understood though._

_After all, he’d travelled across the world to get a good job to support his family, sending every penny that he could back to Japan._

_Victor was just doing what he had to do too._

_He stopped combing through Yuuri’s hair, fingers clenching slightly in the strands instead. Like he was trying to hold on to him._

_“I need you,” he choked._

_Yuuri pressed his eyes shut, drawing a shaky breath. “You can’t throw your life away for me. Yurio’s life, your family…”_

_Yuuri hated it. He wanted to say damn to them all, but he knew he couldn’t. Victor couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to ask it of him, no much it stung to admit it. Yuuri knew the reality - he’d never win anyway._

_A finger curled under Yuuri’s chin, forcing him to look Victor in the eye. He opened them obligingly._

_Victor’s were glittering._

_“Don’t I get a say in this?” he breathed, looking heartbroken._

_Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing down the twist of his gut. He could barely breathe, pain in his chest so deep that for once he wouldn’t mind if it really was a heart attack at last._

_He could hardly bear it._

_He wanted to kiss Victor until his eyes dried, wanted to curl his fingers in his shirt and never let go, take Victor’s hand and leap off the ship with him in New York and never look back…_

_But he couldn’t._

_He braced his hands on Victor’s chest, pushing himself upright. He let his gaze fall, knowing it would only hurt more if he saw Victor’s face._

_His gloves were already discarded on the back of a chair with Victor’s jacket so it was painfully too easy to reach up to where the gold band rested at the base of his finger. Yuuri took a deep breath… and twisted it off._

_“Let’s end this.”_

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri had made a bee-line for the deck, not stopping to check other passengers or rooms, weaving a clear path through the gentleman and paying close attention that Victor was still behind him. They hadn’t said a word since they’d left the flooded stateroom, both silent and sombre.

What was there to say?

The ship was sinking, and they both knew what was coming. 

Yuuri’s face was drawn in a serious mask as he guided Victor to his lifeboat, heart leaping in his chest when he saw that it was pulled out, already being filled. He got to work, sitting Victor inside like any other passenger. He wasn’t the only gentleman inside the lifeboat. They were just about getting away with it, no ladies in sight Yuuri saw as he too took his place in the boat and scanned the deck one last time.

His heart was beating hard in his chest, almost shaking with anticipation. They were going to make it, he thought, as the officer on deck called them ready, bracing them for lowering. They were-

“ _Wait_!” came a cry from the deck. “Wait, please! I have a child!”

Yuuri’s breath caught, already rising to his feet to receive them. As he did though, he caught Victor’s whisper behind him and sight of the man on deck at the same time.

“ _Chris_.”

Yuuri recognised the splash of blonde hair in an instant as he staggered forward on deck, remembering him from the Olympic with a jolt. He’d been amongst Victor’s company when they’d dined publicly. He’d been the one Victor was supposed to marry.

He was white as a sheet now though, hair in disarray and a small girl clutched to his front. The gold wedding band around his finger glinted in the moonlight.

It made Yuuri’s stomach turn.

Suddenly, he felt icy cold.

The little girl twisted in Chris’s arms, blonde hair whipping around her shoulders and tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Her eyes found Victor in the boat, arms reaching out to him.

“ _Da_!” she screamed.

Yuuri felt like he was going to be sick.

Victor had never said that he hadn’t gotten married, Yuuri suddenly realised. He’d said he’d loved Yuuri, had kissed Yuuri, had made him feel like he was the only man in the world…

… but there was a little girl calling him _‘Da’_ in his old fiancee’s arms and a ring on Christophe’s finger.

When Yuuri turned back, he honed in on Victor’s hand.

A strangled cry left him when he saw a similar gold band on Victor’s finger too.

He’d done it, Yuuri realised, feeling faint. Victor had gone to America and gotten married anyway. He’d forgotten Yuuri. He’d moved on. He had a providing husband and a little girl, and Yuuri was… nothing. His heart balked in his chest at the realisation, feeling sick to his stomach.

It turned even more though when he cast his eyes over the lifeboat - it was already full.

He pressed his eyes shut, heart bitter with regret.

He knew what he had to do.

“Can you row?” he asked sharply when he opened his eyes again, catching Christophe’s gaze.

Green eyes glittered back at him, terrified. “A-a little.”

Yuuri’s voice was surprisingly strong as he nodded, curling his hands into fists at his side. “Good,” he said, gathering himself. “Get in.”

He stepped up to the rim of the lifeboat, ready to step up and off to make room. It was the only way. It was his duty.

“Yuuri!”

A hand caught the leg of his trousers though, stopping him.

Yuuri paused, turning back to see Victor’s horrified face staring up at him. He leaned down, uncurling Victor’s fingers from his clothes and blinking fast as he squeezed them as tight as he dared.

“Someone as beautiful as you,” he said, voice cracking traitorously as he held Victor’s eye. “Should never be alone.” 

It couldn’t be him. 

Maybe it never could have been.

But Victor had a husband and a daughter and he knew that Victor needed them way more than he would ever need Yuuri. Yuuri had to do his duty, for all their sakes.

So he dropped Victor’s hand and pushed himself out of the boat before he could lose his nerve, before he gave way to the flood of emotions battering at his ribcage. He held the girl as Chris got into place, handing her to Victor as if the child could anchor him in place. She did. He didn’t so much as blink as Yuuri gave him one last nod and stepped back from the boat.

He held his breath.

The second the command came to lower the boat though, he felt himself start to crumble. He bit his lip furiously, hands clasped tight behind his back and stood ramrod straight.

_Victor was watching_ , he told himself, feeling his lover’s eyes still staring into him, trying to catch his gaze. He couldn’t. If he looked at Victor again he wasn’t sure he could keep his composure. Already, his eyes stung. He pinched his hand behind his back to keep his face blank. He didn’t want Victor to see him cry. He wanted to be brave for him.

* * *

Victor was shaking, arms clenched too tight around little Alice but he didn’t care, eyes locked on Yuuri on the deck.

He’d given up his place.

Victor was still numb with shock - and then the boat lowered and his heart dropped with it. They were leaving Yuuri behind.

He couldn’t look away. He stared at Yuuri, so desperate for him to turn back, to look him in the eyes one last time… Victor couldn’t believe it would be the last time, heart clenching in his chest at the thought. Yuuri wouldn’t look at him though, eyes locked on the horizon, head held high and proud as Victor’s boat lowered ever further away.

When Yuuri finally disappeared from view, Victor slumped in his seat.

His head span.

Yuuri had given up his seat for Christophe. He’d stepped back like a gentleman and let Christophe take his place, knowing the water that was creeping up inside the ship, knowing what was coming.

Victor remembered how cold it was…

He couldn’t leave him.

His hand jerked out, grasping Christophe’s shoulder, hard. He turned back, already frowning as soon as he caught the expression on Victor’s face.

Victor bundled his daughter back into his friend’s arms before he could say anything though, blood racing with adrenalin. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, taking Chris’s hand and pressing the knuckles firmly against his mouth. Christophe was still his best friend, after all. He flickered a weak smile. “Take care of her.” 

He ran his hand gently down Alice’s bouncy blonde locks, savouring the precious girl one last time. At least she would get out of this, he thought, glad of that.

Christophe’s mouth dropped open, expression twisting with shock as Victor stood up in the boat. He realised a second too late what he was thinking.

“Victor, no!”

Victor leapt.

He pushed himself off the edge of the boat where Yuuri had stepped off, jumping with all he had at the open lower deck of the ship. 

A million things raced through his mind as he was in the air. Firstly, it was cold. It was so damned cold that he felt like his blood was ice in his veins, chilled with horror. Next, was the ship’s list. Now, he could see it. The bow was dipped low, the ship no longer perfect and level but leaning forward dangerously into the shimmering waters of the Atlantic.

Then, he noticed the distance. 

The lifeboat wasn’t directly next to the deck. The ship must have been listed to the side as well as the front, Victor realised a second too late, suddenly realising the wide gap between it and the lifeboat, leaping through more open air than he’d thought. 

He watched the deck get closer and closer, rising nearer and nearly there, until-

_It fell._

Victor gasped.

His body slammed into the side of the ship, arms slapping up and miraculously getting a grip on the deck’s railing, clinging on for dear life. He could feel gravity pulling at his shoes, trying to steal him off the ship. _How far was the fall?_ , he wondered, wincing at the thought. _Too far._

He cried out, his cold fingers burning as they fought for grip. He could hear Christophe screaming behind him, fingers brushing at the back of his jacket to try and pull him back.

He didn’t want to go back.

He gritted his teeth as he pulled, trying desperately to pull himself up over the ledge. If he could just get his shoulders up, he’d be fine. If he just-

Hands fisted in his jacket and pulled, the air whipped from Victor’s lungs as he was dragged over the rail. His knees gave out beneath him the second his feet touched the floor.

He gasped for breath as he stared up, wide eyed, at the ceiling, cold air shooting through his lungs and trembling with shock. His fingers were tingling.

He could have died there and then, he realised with a jolt. 

But he hadn’t.

He sucked in one last gulp of air and suddenly, he was scrambling to his feet, shoes slipping on the icy deck. He didn’t care. He didn’t stop. As soon as he was up, he was running like his life depended on it.

* * *

Yuuri ran across the ship and threw up overboard the second that Victor had disappeared from sight, reality crashing into him at last. His boat was gone, and he wasn’t on it. 

He wasn’t getting off the ship.

The thought made him press his eyes shut, stomach turning again. He didn’t dare follow that thread of thought, not brave enough to face wherever it led.

Victor was safe.

That was all that mattered.

His knees were still shaky as he straightened up, pulling himself together. He started walking, not entirely sure where he was going. The night wasn’t over. There were still plenty of other people he had to-

Someone collided with him.

Yuuri nearly lost his footing as the body crashed into him, hands instinctively grabbing at the stranger to keep them upright too. His feet stumbled beneath him, fighting for purchase. The air knocked out of his lungs from the impact, gasping for breath as the floor beneath him finally stopped swaying and he stared at the still floorboards in shock. 

_Everything was already falling apart_ , he thought bitterly, heart clenching at the thought before he straightened up. When he did though, it got so much worse.

Blue eyes stared back at him.

_His_ blue eyes.

Yuuri’s blood ran cold.

“What are you doing?” he gasped, chest so tight he could hardly catch his breath. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Victor was supposed to be gone. Victor was- “You have to go! You have to-”

“I’m staying.”

_It was too calm_ , Yuuri thought with horror. Victor’s voice was too calm, like he’d already surrendered to his fate.

Yuuri couldn’t let him. “But you-”

“I won’t be alone.”

Yuuri felt the chill of Victor’s palm as he reached up to cup his cheek, eyes never leaving Yuuri’s even for a moment. Yuuri couldn’t look away, captivated. Terror and adoration stared back at him, Yuuri had no idea which was guiding Victor in that moment. For the emotion swimming in his eyes though, not an ounce of it showed on his face, calm and composed as ever.

He swallowed thickly, mask cracking ever so slightly. “I won’t be alone.”

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_Victor just stared at the ring. “What?”_

_His voice was barely more than a whisper. His pale face said more than any words ever could though._

_“You’ve done more than enough for me,” Yuuri said slowly, taking Victor’s hand in his and opening it up. Carefully, he tipped the ring into Victor’s palm. “Thanks to you, I got to live my dream.”_

_He’d never forget it._

_He’d always wanted to get just a glimpse of Victor Nikiforov before, let alone meet him, let alone fall in love with him. It had been the most wonderful week of his life._

_Yuuri rose to his feet with more grace than he thought he had left for his quaking heart, bowing deep and low. He hoped it covered the sting in his eyes, hid the clench of his jaw... “Thank you!”_

_In front of him, Victor slumped, defeated._

_Yuuri couldn’t bear to look at him, too ashamed. He looked at Victor’s shoes instead, memorising the fine thread along the seams and-_

_Something splashed down._

_He jerked his head up before he could help himself. What he saw nearly stopped his heart dead._

_Victo’s eyes glittered. They shone like starlight as tears beaded along his lashline, blinking free and shimmering like jewels as they ran down his face. It was painfully beautiful. It was so very Victor._

_Yuuri couldn’t look away. “Victor...”_

_“I never expected this of you,” Victor choked, voice tight. The sadness in his gaze was bottomless. “Something so selfish…”_

_Every word stabbed through Yuuri like a knife, stinging a new barb through his heart with every syllable. He never wanted to hurt Victor. By God, all he wanted was for him to be happy._

_But he couldn’t do that, not really. He had nothing to offer Victor. He was just a steward. He had no money, or family, or prospects. He had nothing. Victor could kiss his chances with high society goodbye if he stayed with Yuuri while there was a man out there that could really take care of him… Yuuri couldn’t ignore that._

_“Selfish or not,” Yuuri said, clenching his fists tight at his sides to keep his voice steady. “It’s my decision.”_

_For you, he added in his head._

_He sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “I’m going home.”_

_Maybe it was time. He couldn’t imagine any journeys being the same after they docked in New York. Every ship would remind him of Victor; every deck to remind him where they first kissed, every service to remind him of Victor in his fine dinner jacket, every night cold and alone while Victor lay in the arms of another… Yuuri wasn’t sure how he would bear it. Maybe it was time for him to finally go back home._

_He’d never see Victor again._

_But he couldn’t leave him like this._

_Yuuri dropped down to a kneel, reaching up carefully to brush back Victor’s hair away from his face._

_He couldn’t stop staring._

_“What are you doing?” Victor asked numbly, not looking up._

_Yuuri’s voice caught in his throat. “I…” his voice trailed away as he followed the flow of Victor’s tears down his pearly cheeks. “I’m just surprised to see you cry.”_

_He’d known that it would be unpleasant, but for Victor to actually cry… Yuuri hadn’t prepared himself for that - and it was mesmerising, Yuuri drowning in those shimmering blue depths. He wanted to spend forever looking at Victor, studying each long silver eyelash..._

_Victor slapped his hand away though, shattering the illusion. “I’m mad, okay?” he snapped, eyes hardening._

_It burned Yuuri to have Victor glare at him like that._

_Nevertheless, he didn’t reach out again. He straightened up slowly, his heavy heart weighing him down. “This was never serious,” he said quietly. “It never could be...” Realistically, they’d never had a future together._

_Yuuri couldn’t give him the future he deserved._

_That was what he needed Victor to understand._

_“You could be happy,” he went on, voice scratching as his throat tightened. “You won’t need to worry-”_

_Victor’s eyes snapped up to him._

_In a second, he was up on his feet. “How can you ask me to be happy when you’re running away?!”_

_Yuuri flinched, breath hitching - Victor had_ shouted _at him! Victor never rose his voice at anything, never got angry, never lost control - even at Yurio, he’d kept his cool! But now, Yuuri staring into those blazing blue eyes, there was nothing cool and controlled about him at all…_

_Yuuri didn’t pull away as Victor reached out and snatched his hand though, grip too tight and punishing._

_“Take it back,” Victor demanded, voice rough. The battle in his gaze started to crack. “Please.”_

_It broke Yuuri’s heart to see it. “I can’t.”_

_He couldn’t let himself._

_Victor just gripped tighter, stepped closer. His eyes were frantic. “Take it back! Take it back, Yuuri-”_

_Yuuri didn’t hesitate as Victor’s voice cracked and his body crumbled at the same time, swallowing the Russian in his arms and holding him close. Victor’s back bobbed unmistakably, his face buried in the crook of Yuuri’s shoulder. It felt wet. Yuuri’s heart cracked in his chest as he felt it._

_He just curled his fingers in the back of Victor’s jacket and held Victor until he ran out of tears, knowing that it might be for the last time._

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Victor stayed with Yuuri, serving out his duty together. He helped load lifeboats, he tried to make sense of the crowds, tried to protect Yuuri when the bulkier men got a little too rough with panic...it was when he went down below deck through the grand foyer to do one last sweep of the staterooms that he heard it though.

“If we’re going to go down,” Victor heard, freezing where he stood on the staircase. “We’re going to go down as gentlemen.”

His blood ran cold.

_They knew._

Victor didn’t catch anything more before the two gentlemen walked briskly out of earshot, but he got the picture, heart stilling in his chest. It was only then that he noticed how cold it was, even inside. The air was frigid, the water no doubt icy out in the open ocean. Even if they survived the ship going down, then what? Bobbing in the ice cold waters, muscles cramping in the cold, slipping beneath the surface and being pulled down deep screaming at the abyss…

Fear gripped him tight, breath misting in front of his face with his next shaky exhale. Nobody was coming. There would be no holding on. There would be no last minute rescue. There were only the lifeboats, thin and few across the deck with hundreds and hundreds of people still aboard...

He’d been an idiot.

He raced back up the stairs to the main deck, finding Yuuri right by the same lifeboat he’d left him at. The boat wasn’t full yet. Victor thanked the stars as he slipped his dinner jacket off his shoulders.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri snapped his head up, freezing. 

Victor slipped his jacket underneath Yuuri’s loose life vest, offering no explanation as Yuuri frowned at him confused. 

“You have to get in a boat,” was all he said.

Yuuri just stared. “What are you talking about?” 

“You have to get in a boat,” Victor said again, firmer as he wrestled Yuuri’s numb arms into the sleeves. “You have to get off this ship. This is not going to end well and you know it.” He wrapped the jacket tight over Yuuri’s middle before smoothing the life vest back over it, tying the cords together tightly to hold it all in place. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had to offer. “You have to go.” 

If even the gentry had given up hope, what chance did the lower classes - did crew?! That was what terrified Victor the most. His Yuuri not having a chance…

It wasn’t too late though.

Yuuri was a rower. He could still get on a lifeboat. The lifeboats needed sailors to keep them in order when the ship was gone, to command them in the open Atlantic waters. All Yuuri needed was one spot, one seat, one boat. It wasn’t too much, and he would be useful. Surely, someone would have mercy. Surely-

“No.”

That one word cut Victor’s heart to ribbons.

“Yuuri-”

“I’m not going-”

Victor didn’t give him a chance to finish.

He clasped his hands either side of Yuuri’s face and smashed his mouth to his, kissing wet and messy. Publicity didn’t matter anymore. Nobody paid them any attention. Probably because they knew half of them wouldn’t live to see sunrise, Victor thought bitterly.

“Please,” he all but begged when he brushed his mouth off Yuuri’s, foreheads touching. Tears glittered in his eyes. He couldn’t help it.

Yuuri had to know what it meant to him.

His hand came up to cup Victor’s cheek, holding his eye firmly. Determined. Strong. _Unafraid_.

Victor felt like a coward in comparison.

He didn’t move as Yuuri leaned up and pressed a gentler kiss to Victor’s mouth, slow like they had all the time in the world.... 

“I made my choice,” he just said softly, hand finding Victor’s. He laced their fingers together, squeezing tight. “For better or worse.”

Victor’s breath hitched. 

His hand squeezed back. “Until death do we part,” he promised. 

In another life he would have married Yuuri Katsuki. He would have taken him to America and eloped into the sunset with him.

* * *

**_1911 - RMS Olympic_ **

_At the last dinner aboard the Olympic, Victor barely touched his food, looking pale and sombre at the dining table._

_He’d been obliged to show himself in the dining room with his party, one last meal together before they all went their separate ways in New York. He’d wanted nothing more than to just hide away in his room with Yuuri, savouring the last precious hours they had together. For once though, Yakov had actually put his foot down, insisting on Victor’s presence._

_Across the dining room, Victor caught Yuuri’s eye._

_He wasn’t serving their table tonight. Victor wondered if that was really a coincidence or if Yuuri had requested it to be that way._

_Regardless, he looked just as miserable as Victor._

_Even across the dining room, it was obvious; his mouth was down turned, his shoulders slumped, he moved slowly like he was in a dream… when they’d crossed paths, Victor had noticed how red rimmed Yuuri’s eyes were. He’d wanted that to grant him some small comfort at least - Yuuri wasn’t happy about what was happening clearly! He was just as devastated._

_But it didn’t._

_A part of him simply hated Yuuri for what he was doing._

_They’d agreed to make their own decision when they docked in New York, to stay in their old lives or venture on together. Yuuri needed more time._

_It was the best compromise Victor had been able to get him to agree to._

_As he caught one final glimpse of Yuuri on his way to the Smoking Room after dinner, Victor drank in his heartbroken expression, wondering if it would be the last thing that he ever saw of Yuuri Katsuki._

* * *

**1912 - RMS Titanic**

Yuuri flinched at the crack of gunshots ripping through the air, but even they couldn’t compare with the fear that swept over him as he heard the Captain call for the lifeboats back through the megaphone. It could only mean one thing - there were no more boats. There was no way out.

And as he glanced back towards the bow of the ship and saw that water had already slipped over the railings, his blood ran cold.

Victor followed his gaze.

It was coming.

He reached up and grasped Yuuri’s sleeve, grip white knuckled and tangling in the material of his own jacket. 

“What are we going to do?” Victor’s face went white, voice sharp and high pitched. “Yuuri, w-what do we do?”

_I don’t know_ , Yuuri answered in his head, even that voice barely more than a whisper with terror. He staggered back a step, wrestling for balance on the badly tilted deck. He felt like he could slip at any moment, like any step would have him sliding down into the abyss lurking below…

But he couldn’t say that. 

“S-stay on the ship,” he finally forced out, unable to tear his eyes away from the sunken bow. The waters were still rising. “W-we have to - as long as possible-”

The water would be freezing. _Below freezing._ Yuuri remembered the cold of it seeping against his shoes from below deck - what would it be like to be swimming in it, to be drowned in it? He could swim, but what good would it do against the cold stealing his breath and strength?

And then there was Victor.

Could he swim? Was he strong? He didn’t even have a life vest! There wasn’t a spare now, and Yuuri’s hands were shaking too badly to be able to offer up his own.

He couldn’t help that now. All they could do was try and escape the water for as long as possible, wrestle to stay aboard what scraps of wreckage might bob above the surface and pray - pray that fate would be kind somehow. Yuuri didn’t dare think beyond that. He simply wasn’t brave enough.

Men were already being swept off the ship towards the bow of the ship, picked up by the water and carried away. Yuuri didn’t want to join them.

They had to get higher. They had to-

The deck trembled beneath them.

Yuuri forgot how to breathe as the gunshots were drowned out by a deep, rumbling explosion, the whole ship shuddering. Yuuri staggered to keep his footing, reaching out for Victor. The blast was muffled - it was from below deck, he realised, from the depths.

He’d said they needed to stay on the ship as long as possible but, by God, if it was breaking up beneath their very feet…

He glanced up, panic stricken gaze finding Victor’s easily.

He was having the same thought.

Yuuri didn’t dare move as three more blasts rocked from the heart of the ship, leaving him quaking. Would there be more? Would there be more explosions closer to the surface? Perhaps they would cave the deck in right from underneath them and send them plunging to their doom. People were screaming around them now, terror sinking in.

Yuuri didn’t have a way to voice his own, to do anything but whimper - until the almighty shriek of metal drowned them all out.

He turned just in time to see the lowest, half-sunken funnel dwindle.

Yuuri watched it fall as if in slow motion, watched the colossal thing drop out of the sky like it was nothing more than a snapping matchstick. It hit the water with an almighty crack. Yuuri felt the vibrations shudder beneath his feet, watched the swimmers in the sea vanish beneath it. 

“Oh my God…” he breathed, as it too slipped below the surface.

_The end really was coming..._

Victor’s fingers curled in his sleeve. “Run!”

Victor all but threw Yuuri forward and Yuuri let him, legs falling numbly into a sprint beneath him. They pelted up the steep line of the ship like their lives depended on it. Yuuri didn’t dare linger on the fact that they actually did. He just ran, blood pounding in his head and breath rasping in his throat. His ears were ringing. 

They passed the crazy baker, red faced and hurling chairs and furniture off the deck and into the water.

Yuuri cast a fleeting thought for Phichit. He hadn’t seen him all night, had no idea if he’d been assigned a lifeboat, if he had gotten off, if he was still somewhere on the deck running for his life too - Yuuri had no idea, but he prayed somehow that his friend was safe. He couldn’t help him now. Yuuri couldn’t even help himself.

His legs screamed, aching from the steep angle of the deck and dragging from exhaustion. He knew he couldn’t stop though. If they stopped, it would all be over.

He screamed as something exploded behind them, glancing back over his shoulder just in time to see another funnel fall. Black smoke trailed up from the sea, the wrench of warping metal unimaginable.  
He didn’t realise that he’d stopped running until Victor grabbed his hand and pulled. “Yuuri, come on!”

They ran. 

Yuuri ran for his life, almost forgetting about Victor had he not been holding his hand in a vice like grip. Fear clenched his heart, blood like ice. He could feel tears in the corner of his eyes but they felt like icicles, sticking to his eyelashes. He was terrified. Everything was happening so fast, every pace they ran up the deck another pace sinking into the ocean behind them..

Bodies bounced off them as they ran, every man for himself. Everyone was running in the same direction, to the heel of the ship, desperate to cling to it as long as they possibly could.

The screaming was unimaginable.

It hit him suddenly, air catching in his chest as they noise slammed back into him, crashing through his once numb ears. Now he could hear everything. The screams of those terrified, knowing the fate that waited for them-

His knees gave out beneath him at the thought, hearing his own despairing cry slip through his lips like it belonged to someone else.

Victor spun around. “Yuur-”

The lights went out.

Darkness plunged around them but Victor’s eyes had barely turned skywards before the world exploded into something far worse. 

Metal screamed. 

The boat roared.

The once steep deck suddenly righted and slammed back down onto the ocean, throwing Victor down from above him and slamming him against the deck. What had happened? It was like it had broke, like it had snapped, but it couldn’t-

Yuuri looked up and the last two funnels were gone. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be real.

“Yuuri, move!”

Victor’s hands were dragging him upright, but it was already too late, he knew. He could feel the ship moving beneath them, twisting, tilting. 

It was already happening.

Yuuri just clung to Victor, too frozen with fear to move, or run, or - 

_Stand._

His legs gave out beneath him, feet slipping on the deck and crying out as he faltered, feeling gravity pull, feeling his death lurking beneath him.

He heard the rip of Victor’s shirt above him, the material breaking beneath his fingers. If he let go, he’d be dead.

An arm wrapped tight around his back, crushing him against Victor’s chest as he was hauled up. He still wasn’t anymore upright but it didn’t matter, he soon realised, hearing Victor groan above him. He glanced up, seeing Victor’s hand clenched tight around the railing.

The ship tilted more.

Yuuri realised with terror how they would go down.

Behind Victor was the raised stern, a deck higher than they were. It loomed higher and higher like a wall - soon to be a ceiling, Yuuri clicked together.

It would drag them under. 

The ship was rising impossibly more upright with every passing second and Yuuri reached up to cling to the railing too, feet miraculously finding purchase in the rails along the side of the ship. It was their only chance, he knew, to stay as far to the outskirts as possible where there was nothing else that could pull them under from above. He dragged Victor over, pulling him to the side too. 

Maybe they could jump.

One look down though and his stomach churned sickeningly. It was so high, water impossibly far beneath them. It would be like jumping off a building!

But not for long.

Yuuri whimpered as the water rushed up from beneath them, swallowing the ship foot by foot. It wouldn’t be long, he realised, watching the speed of the sea crashing closer, hands growing numb around the railing. He wouldn’t be able to hold on long anyway…

“Victor.”

Victor glanced up at him, eyes wide and terrified.

Yuuri’s heart squeezed - and he let go of the railing to grip Victor’s hand, smoothing over his fingers still clinging to the ship. 

He didn’t have time to say what they had to do.

He just twisted round to face the open ocean, fingers tightening around Victor’s. His heart skipped a beat when Victor let his hand be peeled off the railings twisting with him. The sea still looked so far away, but with every second it loomed closer, like they were already falling. Yuuri couldn’t look away from it, watching the glassy water climb ever closer.

They had minutes.

_Maybe less._

“I love you,” Victor croaked, gripping Yuuri’s hand for dear life.

Yuuri’s chest was too full for words, fear and love crashing all at once. If this was to be his last, he wanted to go with Victor in his hand and heart.

But he had to give them a chance.

_One,_ he counted silently in his head.

He didn’t dare think of how cold it would be.

_Two._

His fingers flexed around the rail. He could barely feel them.

_Three._

He screamed as he pushed off from the ship, sucking in one last deep breath as Victor jumped beside him too and-

The water hit him hard.

Victor’s yell drowned out around him as they smacked into the sea, the air punching out of Yuuri’s lungs and the world going black.

Everything stopped.

Nothing moved, everything was quiet - Yuuri wasn’t aware of anything but his weightlessness in the water, the popping of his ears, and his hand still in a punishing grip. He still had Victor, clinging back tight. That was one relief. 

His skin tingled with the lingering kiss from the air, still mercifully fresh on his skin. He could still remember it. He could still _feel_ it.

But then he felt the ship.

The water moved. Yuuri could feel it rippling over him, pulling him down from behind and heard the hulking metal groaning behind him, beneath him. He could only imagine what was happening in the depths, how the ship twisted and warped as it sank, how many bodies it dragged down with it...

_It was dragging them down too,_ he realised with horror, feeling them sink deeper and deeper, cold wrapping ever tighter around him.

His hand tightened around Victor’s.

His legs felt like they were made of lead as they kicked, so heavy and so cold. He didn’t even know if he was squirming in the right direction, the water swirling black and secret around him, no light to show him the way to the surface. Too close, he felt the pull of the ship fighting against him, pulling him under as it sank. Yuuri clawed harder through the water, chest burning for air. 

He fought the urge to gasp, vision spotting black in the corners. One gasp, and it would all be over. He couldn’t give up yet. He wasn’t ready to die.

It hurt though.

His muscles screamed with exhaustion and his ribs felt like they were caving in around his chest, the salt water stinging his eyes. Maybe he was already dying. Maybe he was already _dead_. He’d never get to tell Victor that he loved him back…

_Victor._

That one thought burned his chest more than the cold, more than the water pressure crushing around him. Victor’s bright blue eyes were somewhere beside him in the darkness, feeling the water shift as he tried to swim against the ship's drag too. Yuuri could still feel Victor’s hand gripping tight in his own, not daring to let go. He couldn’t let go. He couldn’t leave Victor alone... 

He fought with everything he had, battling with the water and the dragging currents until-

The ship let them go.

Yuuri gasped as they popped up above the surface, a fresh wave of icy cold slapping him in the face. Everything was still dark, still frighteningly cold - but by God, the sound!

Yuuri felt a new fear grip him as the yelling hit him, hearing the ungodly screams of hundreds of people. How many people were there? He could see people bobbing in the water, some splashing - _so many people!_ How could this happen to so many people?

Only one person mattered.

“V-Victor?”

Yuuri twisted in the water, voice cracking pitifully. His hand was still gripped in Victor’s, splashing pathetically to find him through the madness.

“Victor!”

Victor’s silver hair gleamed in the moonlight when Yuuri finally found him, his face white and stricken as he struggled in the water, barely buoyant. _If only he had a life vest_ , Yuuri thought, too little too late.

He clung to him though, wrapping his arms tight around Victor and clutching him close. There wasn’t much else they could do but cling to each other now.

The ship was gone.

One glance around and Yuuri could see nothing. Not smoke, nor boats, nor rearing metal frame … it was all gone, people and bodies littering the water endlessly in its wake. It was horrific. It was-

“ _Ah_!”

Something hit them.

Yuuri heard Victor cry out as he was wrenched away, hand ripped out of his grasp and disappearing in a bubble of water. Yuuri felt it graze him too, knocking his arm enough to sting even through the double jackets.

When he righted himself again, there was a deck chair floating between him and Victor.

Yuuri saw the red of blood streaked on the wood.

“Victor!”

Yuuri swept the chair aside, wading through the water and reaching for Victor. He wasn’t treading water anymore - Victor’s head was lolling, face barely above the surface.

When Yuuri grabbed him, hauling him higher above the waterline and hooking Victor’s arm over the leg of the chair, he was as limp as a doll.

“Victor,” Yuuri begged, brushing Victor’s sodden hair back from his face. His eyes were closed, blood streaming from his forehead. Yuuri’s heart stopped - for a moment, Yuuri thought he was dead.

Then a feeble, shuddering moan slipped through Victor’s lips and his arm twitched around the deck chair. His eyes rolled behind his eyelids.

“V-Victor…”

Yuuri’s hands were numb as he tried to drag Victor further onto the upended deck chair, ignoring the pop of more chairs bursting from the water around them. They must have come loose from the deck as the ship sank below, Yuuri pieced together in his head. If another one hit them, it would be devastating. Victor was barely conscious, he couldn’t swim. If Yuuri lost him again, he knew he wouldn’t get him back.

He cried out as he pulled Victor up from the other side of the deck chair, fingers screaming with pain. He didn’t stop though, didn’t dare - not until Victor’s torso was propped up out of the water, groaning into the wood. He hauled himself up too, gasping for breath as he finally came to a stop.

Yuuri reached out, tangling their icy fingers together and holding on tight. It was all they could do as they waited for the night to end, clinging to each other through the devastating cold. 

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_Yuuri clung to Victor on their last night together, mapping out the long lines of Victor’s body and committing them to memory like it was the last time. They kissed slow and sombre, savouring every last touch._

_Yuuri had told himself he wouldn’t come._

_They’d agreed to make their own decisions regarding their future and coming to Victor’s bed had felt wrong, like it was tempting, like it was cheating…_

_… but when dinner service had ended and Yuuri realised that that really might be it, he hadn’t been able to stop himself._

_They didn’t talk._

_What more was there to say?_

_Instead, they just plotted out each other one last time for their own sakes, enjoying the warm skin pressed against their own even though inside they felt as cold as corpses._

* * *

**1912 - Atlantic Ocean**

Victor was as cold as a corpse. 

Yuuri wasn't sure how much time had passed but it didn't feel like enough before the screams started to ebb through the darkness, one by one falling silent. It terrified him to know what it meant. 

It terrified him more that it was closing in on them, more and more bodies on surrounding shreds of wreckage bobbing still and silent.

He just squeezed Victor’s hand tighter, biting back the sting of pain. Moving hurt so much. His fingers cracked like they were already frozen, his legs numb beneath the water, and chest screaming with every breath like it drove his ribs piercing into his lungs. Even breathing… how much longer could he-

“Olympic-B.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise, Victor’s raspy voice so quiet he wondered for a moment if he’d dreamed it.

When those blue eyes flickered across the deck chair though, Yuuri knew he hadn’t. 

“W-what?”

Victor had woken up too long after getting struck, but Yuuri had been too thankful that he’d woken up at all to care. The blood had crusted in his pearlescent silver hair, the tips frozen in hardened little spikes.

His hand squeezed slightly around Yuuri’s, Yuuri not missing his lover’s wince. “Olympic-B,” he said again, sounding exhausted. “B for B deck - w-where we first met. It’s-” Victor sucked in a sharp breath, eyes pressing shut. “It’s the password to my affairs. I thought- i-in case I-”

Yuuri froze, shocked. 

_No_.

He couldn’t possibly think about that.

_But Victor was..._

“Take this.”

Yuuri was too numb to resist as Victor clasped Yuuri’s hand between both of his own - _both trembling violently_ \- and somehow managed to prise the ring off his hand, squishing it onto Yuuri’s finger instead. He breathed a weak sigh - a sigh of relief if Yuuri hadn’t seen the taunt flash that darted over Victor’s face.

“It was always yours,” he breathed. “I was saving it for you...”

Yuuri felt himself shake harder but it had nothing to do with the cold. He knew what Victor was saying, what he was doing...

Victor flickered a weak smile anyway. “I knew that if I ever saw you again - I-I’d want you to have everything. My secretary should-”

“No…”

Yuuri couldn’t let him.

If Victor was saying these things then he was giving up - and Yuuri couldn’t possibly let him give up. Victor couldn’t leave him. They’d waited for so long, survived through so much together. They only had to hold on a little longer, be strong just a little bit more.

Yuuri felt anything but strong though as he saw the surrender in Victor’s face, his expression too calm, too peaceful.

_“No!”_

Tears stung in the corners of his eyes and Yuuri gasped as they ran divots down his frozen face, teeth gritting as he crawled himself further up their little raft. He grabbed Victor’s hand, hardly able to feel it, his fingers were so numb. 

“You’re not g-going to die,” he forced out, battling his chattering teeth. “We’re going to make it. We’re going to get to N-New York and you’re going to marry me so I c-can’t do anything s-stupid like leave you ever again.”

He’d never forgiven himself for screwing it up the first time. He couldn’t possibly blow his second chance too! They were so close...

A weak smile flickered over Victor’s lips. “You’d do that for me?”

His mouth barely moved, lips mumbling around the words. It scared Yuuri. It damn near terrified him when Victor closed his eyes again, laying his head down.

Yuuri pressed a clumsy kiss to their clasped hands. “I’d do _anything_ for you.”

He would.

He’d do anything to warm the frost bitten tips of Victor’s hair and put some colour back into his now greying skin and blue lips. He wanted to hold him without the sting of the terrifying cold making him wince in pain. He wanted to take Victor’s ring under an altar rather than in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It couldn’t be over. It couldn’t be…

Yuuri lay his cheek down over their hands and let his eyes close, too tired to keep fighting. Maybe Victor was right. Maybe they should let go together.

He didn’t want to die.

But it _hurt_.

He lost track of time, lulled in and out of consciousness by the waning moans and gentle motion of the water around him. He could just stop. He could just-

“Ah!”

He croaked a cry as something touched his shoulder, pain flaring down his back and arm from just a simple touch. 

He couldn’t see what it was. He was too cold to turn, a fresh wave of shudders wracking over him to calm his crawling ice burned skin. It was only when he saw the flash of the torchlight over the deck chair and heard a cry behind him that his heart soared.

The touch yelped away from his shoulder.

“Sir! Sir, they’re alive!”

Yuuri could have cried.

He slumped, shuddering sobs over the chair as the voice sank in, as the torchlight became more frantic and he suddenly noticed the ripples in the water around him. _From a lifeboat_ , he thought with a gasp. They’d come back. They’d actually come back for them.

“Bring them aboard!”

Yuuri flinched as they reached for him, jerking away from the reaching hands and clinging to Victor’s. He pulled Victor closer, pushing him towards the lifeboat.

“Please,” he heard himself whimper. “Please, please...”

Victor needed help first. 

Yuuri still had his life vest around him, was still in better shape than Victor. Victor barely groaned as he was moved through the water, a tiny frown cracking through his expression. He wasn’t shivering - that was what had scared Yuuri the most. How still and quiet he was, while others died around them in the darkness…

He cried out as their hands were separated, forced apart and palm burning in the wake of their touch. It hurt more than he could have ever imagined.

_Victor._

Yuuri’s heart ramped up in his chest as he was finally pulled aboard too and the exhaustion hit him. He couldn’t feel his legs, collapsing helplessly into the boat beside Victor as a blanket was thrown over him. He clutched it close with trembling fingers, shuddering as the fresh air stirred the cold against his wet skin all over again.

_They’d made it though,_ Yuuri told himself with a gasp of relief. They were in a boat. They were going to make it.

He turned his head as much as he could, pressing his frozen lips against Victor’s cheek and relishing the gasp that Victor hissed at the contact. He was still alive. He was still able to feel it, even if it hurt.

Yuuri watched the shallow rise and fall of Victor’s chest as he curled up against Victor’s side, thanking God for every single one. Victor's eyes were still pressed shut, still drawing in raspy breaths. Yuuri tried to listen to them over the calls of the crew for survivors, even more so to try and forget the silence that answered them.

He lost track of time. Yuuri swam in and out of consciousness, lulled by Victor’s slow heartbeat and watching the officers carefully move the dead in the water out of the boat’s path when he dared open his eyes.

Precious few more joined them in the lifeboat. 

_Too few._

Yuuri tried not to think about it, letting his eyes fall shut again and forcing himself to forget. He couldn’t think about that now. 

When he finally blinked and saw lights over the walls of the boat though - the bright lights of a ship! - he damn near wept with relief. 

It was nearly over.

He shook Victor. “Victor.”

His voice was quiet and raspy, talking burning through his throat. He wondered if it would always be like that, so cold it was hard to imagine how he could ever be warm again. 

Victor didn’t move.

“Victor,” he tried again, shaking a little harder though his numb arms barely felt anything. “Victor, there’s a ship. They found us.”

Still nothing.

“Victor?”

It was only then that Yuuri noticed the heartbeat he’d drifted off to was silent beneath him. The rise and fall was still.

Yuuri stopped breathing too. “ _No…_ ”

He reached up, clasping his hand over Victor’s stiff fingers.

“Victor? _Victor…_ ”

They didn’t reach back.

Yuuri’s head span sickeningly. He gasped in a shaky breath, a strangled cry leaving his lips. He laid his head down on Victor’s shoulder and closed his eyes as the weight hit him, too numb to even cry.

* * *

**1911 - RMS Olympic**

_They’d agreed to meet on the deck if they wanted to go together. B-deck - their deck. The deck where it had all begun…_

_Yuuri nearly made it._

_He stood just shy of the doorway, watching Victor’s back and white knuckles around the rails with sad eyes. His head hung low, shoulders raised. Even from afar Yuuri could see how tense he was, his distress obvious. He wondered how long he had been waiting._

_He longed to step forward. To smooth his fingers over Victor’s and silence his questions with his lips, to take him off the damned ship and run away with him across America…_

_His heart tightened at the thought._

_But he couldn’t._

_Instead he clenched his fists, steeled his resolve and blinked back his tears… and slipped away, leaving Victor waiting by the rail alone._

* * *

**1912 - RMS Carpathia**

Yuuri huddled aboard the Carpathia, blanket still clutched tight around him and eyes staring sightlessly ahead. His life vest had been shed. Victor’s jacket was still wrapped around him, feeling numb in its cold embrace.

Women were wailing.

A part of him thought that he should be too, but he couldn’t. His heart felt too heavy, like it would sink him to the bottom of the Atlantic if he let it.

He could still see Victor’s eyes in his mind’s eye. The shimmery silver of his hair and the porcelain white of his skin ... so clearly, like Victor was still right there with him, like everything was fine...

But it wasn’t.

A sob bubbled through his lips, quiet and groaning. His chest hurt, aching behind his ribs. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, hands clenched into trembling fists.

The ring bit into his finger.

It made him freeze, lip quivering traitorously. 

He splayed out his shaking hand, the gold ring glinting in the rising sunlight. Victor’s ring. His last gift.

Tears welled in Yuuri’s eyes until the gold blurred with his fingers, crossing his arms over his knees and burying his face in them. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming it, but he thought he could still smell Victor’s cologne clinging to the jacket. He breathed in deep, hugging himself tightly. 

It felt wrong. To know that Victor was gone when just hours ago he’d been so full of life - running back into Yuuri’s arms, kissing him like there was no tomorrow…

… and now there wasn’t.

He was gone.

Yuuri hadn’t fought them as they’d surrendered Victor’s body to the sea, carefully lowering him overboard. They hadn’t been able to bring him aboard the Carpathia. They had no way to care for all the bodies left behind by the wreck. Yuuri hadn’t been able to look as Victor had been let go, his fingers numbly falling away from around Victor’s. He wasn’t sure he would really be thankful for that one last glimpse. 

He didn't want to see those bright blue eyes closed forever, to see his pale skin tinged grey, and his usually graceful body so lifelessly still…

He’d rather think of Victor as he was in life.

With lips warm as they kissed, blue eyes that glowed with adoration and pale skin that flushed a delicate shade of pink when Yuuri ran his bare fingertips along it in smooth, sensual strokes. He remembered the look on Victor’s face when he’d given Yuuri the ring, so sure, so serious-

Yuuri’s heart wrenched.

_It wasn’t fair_ , he thought through shuddering gasps. They’d been so close. They’d been on a lifeboat, they were so close to being saved… 

Yuuri didn’t know exactly when Victor had drawn his last breath, but the unfairness of it burned bitterly. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes - but if Victor had just clung on for a little longer, fought a little harder for one last breath, then maybe Yuuri wouldn’t be sitting there alone. _They’d been so close_!

He knew it was unfair to be angry, but his fists curled tighter all the same, hot tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. It made him gasp anew, finally feeling something other than the treacherous icy cold.

Victor had left him.

And it was his fault.

Yuuri should have done more to save him. He should have given his life jacket to Victor sooner, punched him unconscious to keep him in that first lifeboat, stupid to believe Victor Nikiforov would ever simply do as he was told. He was the crew - it was his job to care for his passengers, Victor included. It wasn’t right that he was here, while Victor was not…

He still had Victor’s dinner jacket on over his own, the material tight around his arms and shoulders. It was probably making the numbness in his hands worse. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

He could feel Victor’s stubbly pencil digging into him from the pocket.

Yuuri remembered mocking him about that pencil...

He reached for it numbly, fingers sliding into the silky material of the jacket and peeling the sodden material apart. It wasn’t just a pencil, Yuuri quickly realised. 

He pulled out a pocket watch from the other pocket and a fistful of paper and money notes from the inside one, a handsome collection of both British sterling and American dollars. His old self would have gasped at holding more than a year’s wages in his hand. In that moment though, he couldn’t care less.

He shoved it all back roughly, breaths quickening as he caught the elegant scratch of Victor’s initials carved into the back of the watch. It was too much. It was too soon. He simply couldn’t-

He gasped as his clumsy fingers poked a hole through the sodden paper.

For a moment, he froze. 

He didn’t dare move, not daring to breathe, burning slowly simmering his veins at how all he had left of Victor was what he held in his hand and he’d just _ruined_ it-

Then he recognised the handwriting.

It was his, from his own hastily scribbled note to Victor from the kitchens, the one he’d slipped him at dinner. His chest ached at the thought, remembering how beautiful Victor had been when his eyes had sparkled with surprise. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Yuuri peeled it open carefully, heart thudding hard in his chest. Victor had kept it in his inside pocket, over his heart - somehow, that comforted Yuuri.

But it wasn’t just his note.

Yuuri frowned as he peeled apart a second piece of paper behind his own, the pencil marks thin and faded, but still just about legible. His name was at the top of it. His breath caught as he unfolded it, lip already quivering as he began to read.

* * *

_Yuuri,_

_You must know that I never stopped loving you. I love you more than words could say and I will until the day I die._

_I could not marry Christophe Giacommetti._

_So I ask that if you’ll still have me, meet me by our deck when the ship docks and I will marry you in America._

_Yours forever,_

_Victor_

* * *

Yuuri didn't notice the splash of his tears on the already drenched paper. He just stared dazed, at the words full of promise that he would have given anything to see fulfilled… 

But it was too late. 

Any hope of it had sunk with that cursed ship. 

His head fell back, blood pumping dully in his ears. The sunrise was already glittering over the horizon, colours bright and sharp over the endless stretch of ocean. It should have been beautiful. Instead, Yuuri just watched it with tearful indifference, knowing that he would never be fully whole again, half of his heart forever sank in the bitter Atlantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, if you made it this far! 
> 
> I got the idea for this a few years ago in Belfast at the Titanic museum (which is pretty excellent btw. Go, if you ever find yourself in Ireland) and I just hadn't been able to get it out of my head. I was originally going to write this for the Angst Bang but time worked against me on that. 
> 
> Also, I found this harrowing [real time sinking video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rs9w5bgtJC8) on YouTube that really helped write this, so if you are as respectably fascinated by these terrible disasters as I am, give it a browse. The end shook me. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!
> 
> Also if you can think of any more tags that would be helpful to add for other readers please let me know. I really struggle with tags. I spend more time on tags than I do checking the actual fic and I still cannot seem to think of what to put. I'm not trying to be ignorant or insensitive, I genuinely don't realise a lot of them until someone points them out and suddenly it makes sense.  
> If you see something that would be good to have a warning of, please help a girl out.


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